


The Everthere

by guileheroine



Series: The Everthere [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, buckets of friendship, in a house thick with developing emotional tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guileheroine/pseuds/guileheroine
Summary: “Stay with me.” It was the last thing Korra expected to hear. She was expecting to hear nothing, truth be told; because even Asami had her limits, and she wasn’t like Korra was; she withdrew when she was upset. It took more than a moment for the words to penetrate, and when they did Korra struggled to calibrate them - it was painfully easy to feel the strange weight under them, and equally rather difficult, in the moment, to draw out the reason, what with her heart twisting -  It sounded like something Asami could have said six months ago.  Korra and Asami on the steady, special road to life partnership. A post-reunion, post(ish)-college roommate AU.Complete!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> will update every weekish, with ~10-15 chapters. just an exploration of how my understanding of their relationship and dynamic might play out in a modern setting. enjoy the ride! (and please feel welcome to unpack/explore it with me along the way, i'm [here](http://www.guileheroine.tumblr.com).)

Beside the slant of her notebook Asami’s phone dinged to life again. She leaned over the book to read the message flashing under her solicitor’s name. _All set then?_

 

She swiped and tapped quickly. _Yes and thank you_. That would suffice. Asami didn’t think the woman would be much given to smiley faces, she could read even that with ease. She stared absently at the screen for another long moment. Then her attention settled on the time in the corner. 19:05.

 

She glanced through the window in time to catch the sun’s final flare goodbye as it dipped into the horizon, before picking up her bag and placing the notebook inside. The phone she kept in her jacket pocket. She looked down at the teacup on the tray she had shoved to the other side of the table for a moment before deciding that another coffee would do. One for the road.

 

The bell in the cafe’s entryway tinkled as she let the door slam behind her, and her phone buzzed again in time with it. Outside the last of summer had faded as fast as the last of the sunlight. Asami squeezed her hand around the phone in her pocket before pulling it out again.

 

Her solicitor’s name flashed, but no message. Nothing, except _contract.pdf._

 

So it was going to be that simple.

 

Asami slipped her phone back into her jacket. She could look at that later. In fact, she supposed she had her plans for the evening now. She placed both of her hands around the coffee cup and smiled as she put her mouth to it. The heat seeped into her skin, but it felt warmer still to smile to herself, by herself. She’d gotten used to doing that for other people’s benefit.

 

Then she exhaled. No wind stirred, but something lifted off her shoulders in that moment.

 

She had never planned to buy her own place until she graduated, and she had made a lot of plans. Many fell through in time and with reason, and many weren’t very distinct beyond the fact of their existence. But _buy a house after graduation_ was always one that she was fortunate enough to be able to keep in her nebulous long-haul calendar; a solid, sensible benchmark within the rest of the haze.

 

Not even her father’s arrest had put much of a dent in the plan. She had plenty in the way of funds, accrued before (as far as they could prove) any of Hiroshi Sato’s less upright schemes had been underway. Lucky that, though she hadn’t felt it then. Still didn’t. In any case, what her father lost in restitutions, fines and legal fees was only ever going to be his own; not that Asami could even want a scrap of it; not that she ever knew enough to wonder, let alone ask. But still, it was fortunate, no question, seeing as he would do surprisingly little penance in time rather than money. Ten years, Asami knew, wasn’t long for that many counts of corporate fraud.

 

At least, she didn’t think so. There was a list she saw, framed in her mind on those days she slipped back into a certain frame of mind - long, protracted by legal jargon that she would have parsed in no time had it been someone but her father on the stand. The details escaped her, as much as they had ever really been in her grasp, but she never forgot the length of that list. Never questioned her own personal verdict, nor how staunch she remained in upholding it. Not until her father’s death.

 

Funny how that too had opened the door further, to this brand new venture that now had her practically skipping down the sidewalk. She had decided not to think of it as an indulgence - she’d merely changed the date of an investment long coming. Two months ago, she had held a quick and discrete funeral, and that very evening after talking the tears and wine out of her voice she had put her father’s empty Westchester manor house on the market. It wasn’t long in the going.

 

That had been a memorable day for more than two reasons, though.

 

Korra had written her, on that same day two months ago, after twice as many months of absence. Maybe that contrary high had in part driven Asami to the second event - might as well make a rare day rarer. Anyway, it had been an email of condolence, but that wasn’t the part that stuck out. Two more months without a word since had made it six. Six months gone with only one sad bright spot of a message to punctuate it.

 

Asami didn’t know how to feel about that, but it didn’t much matter, because she knew how she felt right now. To think she had been about to regret not bringing the car. Now the walk to her dorm was celebratory - fresh air for her free lungs; how free she felt, exchanging the weight of her father’s house, her father’s legacy, for something she could finally, really call her own. She was on her own, after all; unfair to be alone and not feel your own. She knew it wasn’t wrong to allow herself this non-indulgence.

 

The twilight bloomed with the excitement in her heart. As the first leaves of autumn fell across the wide pavement she looked up and wondered. It wasn’t that dark, not yet and probably not soon. She could make a turn and go the long way, walk a path that would take her straight across her soon to be new house - it would only help to know how long home it would be on foot from the cafe, wouldn’t it?

 

She made the turn. Light step, high heart.

 

The survey last week hadn’t drawn up anything major - it made the sale quick, and it would make the move easy. The streetlights illuminated her path, brighter and brighter against the dark. If she counted them between the house and work, she wouldn’t make it past fifty; between it and campus, even fewer. She’d made a prime investment, in a prime location.

 

Her mind drew up various floor plans as she walked: fascinatingly warm, fascinatingly homelike. Rifled through colour schemes and designated rooms. Study, kitchen, living, dining - workshop, if she could work it out - bedroom, and several more to spare.

 

Enough for the foreseeable future, and enough for the unforeseeable, too; should she ever have children or multiple pets, whichever unlikely possibility deigned to surprise her first, she thought wryly (since she had long learnt to expect nothing expectable in life.)

 

Because Asami knew, as she stepped in front of the townhouse, that even if work, play, or a nice man or woman persuaded her somewhere new, she would return to her city in the end. It grounded her like little else did, because it belonged to her as much she did to it, as much as anything did.

 

In her pocket her phone buzzed again. Asami drew it out without taking her eyes off the building, didn’t unsmile her lips even when she did. It glowed bright against the night.

 

Korra, 19:23.

_Asami, can i call you? i’m coming back_


	2. Chapter 2

 

 _In between the lines_  
_Is the only place you'll find_  
_What you're missing_  
_That you didn't know was there_  
_So when I say goodbye_  
_You must do your best to try_  
_And forgive me this weakness_  
_This weakness_

◦

  

Korra shifted uncomfortably on the stiff mattress, but she was irked at more than just the mattress. “Yes, mom,” she sighed into her phone, free hand curling in Naga’s fur. Her poor dog was dying in this tiny box of a room. Korra's leg tapped impatiently against the bed. They’d be out soon.

 

“Mom, it’ll be fine, it’s only just October. There’s literally nothing to catch up on. Yes, yes I will.” Naga whined and scuffed at Korra’s knee, and for a terrible moment Korra almost swatted her away. “I have. Well… Mako and Bolin are at their grandma’s this weekend, but I’m gonna go see Asami now. Right now, in fact, like, I gotta go! Love you!”

 

She hung up quickly and exhaled. Before she flung the cell phone onto the bed she swiped back to her messages for a moment. Korra swallowed the vaguely uneasy, vaguely hopeful feeling it evoked again, seeing Asami at the top of that list now. There was a time when that would have been every day.

 

_Yes I am! 4 o clock? x_

 

It had been a good idea to ask Asami to meet her on campus. Yes, it was October, but she remembered well how Asami’s undergrad programme had been even at this time of year, so she could only imagine what her schedule looked like this time around. The truth was, Korra didn’t want to have to leave Naga alone here; but the real, _real_ truth was that she wasn’t ready to do this without Naga.

 

She wondered sometimes, more often of late, if she’d made a grave mistake.

 

Of course, it was more like what she hadn’t done - calls she hadn’t answered, and then texts and emails and the rest, until all of a sudden it was far too late, because the resultant discomfort had swelled and burgeoned until she couldn’t even bring herself to like Asami’s myriad, delightful Instagram posts.

 

She supposed they were talking now though. Texting, at least. She hadn’t mustered enough of whatever it was that she needed to actually call Asami. And she knew it would only make sense on Asami’s part to let Korra set the terms, since it was her mysterious absence that had been the arbiter of their relationship for half a year. Asami was careful like that. It came through perfectly in the fresh, forward demeanour of her messages, and part of Korra’s heart wilted with the understanding that she was trying to find their joint bearings; that Korra had left her lost enough to need to work out what and where they were again. She sighed, not for the last time.

 

3.56, said the plainest wall clock ever manufactured. She slipped her phone and wallet into her back pocket before stooping to leash Naga, who raised her head pleadingly at the prospect of escape. “Let’s go, girl! You wanna go see Asami?” She gave her an affectionate pat before standing again. “Dunno about me, but she’s going to be so excited to see you!”

 

Korra’s favourite food joint on campus was the one nearest, and that was probably the only good thing about the cubicle of a dorm she had been saddled with. The Hideaway was hidden away between two of the largest school departments, and as such it had enough life pouring into it that that at any given hour she could count on it for fresh, good grub. It would be quieter on the weekend, though, and Korra wondered if that was for worse or better.

 

Asami was already there when she arrived.

 

Korra saw her, leant against the inside wall by the door, concentrated on the phone in her hand. The sight made her stride waver for just a second, and then something invisible propelled her much faster.

 

She stopped herself from clearing her throat. "Hey...” Korra began to say, in the same surreal moment that Asami looked up at her. Before she could even take her face in Naga had blocked the view.

 

Asami struggled to put her phone away, laughter following a sharp intake of breath as Naga leapt into her arms. Korra waited in what felt like mid-step, a weirdly expectant hand raised before her, but Asami had Naga to appease first. “Hi - _woah_ , hey! Hey! Wow, you’re so big, girl! How are you, angel? Been good?”

 

Korra smiled wide. Asami doting was always Asami at her wonderfully lavish best. The sound of her voice washed over Korra, pulling something long buried to the fore, and she averted her eyes when Asami pressed a kiss between Naga’s ears.

 

She seemed older than before, despite the exuberance of her demeanour. (Most likely, that was just Asami talking to a dog, something which Korra greatly respected.) Her hair was back in a loose, elegant braid, and between that and her smart slacks and shirt, she looked every bit the sharp metropolitan girl that would power walk too fast by her way back when Korra had first come to New York.

 

“Waiting long?” Korra said, more breathless than she meant to sound.

 

Asami rolled her sparkling eyes, flooding Korra with inexplicable relief. There she was, tongue literally in cheek. That wasn’t Asami with a stranger. And this Asami wasn't a stranger.

 

Quickly but carefully, she placed Naga down on the floor. Then she drew immediately into Korra’s arms. Her scent and the warmth of her body engulfed her, and Korra’s sorry heart took the hardest hit yet. She clasped Asami’s shoulder to her cheek. Wow.

 

 _Wow_ , she had missed her. She knew that, gosh. But there was something about being slapped in the face so palpably with the fact, rather than brooding upon it on her hundredth sleepless night. Naga ran an excited circle around them.

 

Asami kept Korra’s wrists in her clasp when they drew apart. Korra saw several sentiments cross her eager face, approach the tip of her tongue, before she said, “Let’s sit down?”

 

Even as she scanned for a table Korra stayed in her grasp. They found one for two, close to the bar.

 

Korra gently kicked the extra chair from their chosen table to make space for Naga. When she turned back to her, Asami was leaning forward on her side, both hands pursed eagerly over the edge of the table. Korra’s heart beat and eyes blinked hard, as though she could hardly take in enough of the sight and sensation of her friend.

 

Asami blinked back. “It’s really good to see you.”

 

Korra beamed and swallowed. “And you. You… you look…” Unearthly. Magical. Like home. “...Good.”

 

Asami gave a barely perceptible nod; her bright eyes, still fast on Korra, gave no other sign that she’d heard her. She produced a belated reply after clearing her throat. “Yeah, well, I’m getting there. I think. You look well, too… _This_ -” she said suddenly, gesturing to the side of Korra’s hair with a slender hand, “is adorable!”

 

“Thanks,” Korra said. Her fingers moved automatically to her hair, inches from Asami’s own hand, and her eyes flickered down. The next second seemed to stretch interminably. Asami eventually placed her floating hand down onto the table.

 

“Um, so you had class today?” Korra asked.

 

Asami shook her head, pulling a menu from under the plastic tea light at the centre of the table. “Shop. Not a lot of class this year, actually.”

 

“Figures,” Korra said. And before she could stop herself, “I’m really proud of you.”

 

Without a beat Asami lifted her eyes, but her quiet “Thanks,” didn’t reach them. “It’s just an extra year of school, you know. Easier to get a Master’s now than come back for it. And interning means my research is basically paying bills, too.”

 

“I know. And I didn’t just mean that,” Korra replied. But she decided not to elaborate. “We’ll graduate together, you know,” she smiled as she voiced the sudden pleasant thought.

 

“Right! What’s the point of being older than you if I can’t even graduate first?” Asami ribbed.

 

Korra smiled wider. “How is it, by the way? Your work?” She was genuinely curious. Asami had landed a placement with one of the most illustrious firms in New York. Not only that, but the position was a creative one - such that she could design for a wage and a degree at the same time, something of a dream of hers. Korra knew this much from before her departure; in her final days in the city, Asami had split her evenings between keeping Korra company and toiling away for her resume. Korra’d heard more than she ever needed to about each of Asami’s particular scholastic and professional wants and fears, though she conceded, as she reflected back to those sorely missed nights, that she probably wouldn’t mind hearing more.

 

“Oh, it’s pretty amazing!” Asami admitted, cracking a true, stunning grin for the first time. “I don’t even care that I basically had no summer off. They actually took the positions on offer down to two, after you left - budget cuts. I got so lucky! I can’t believe I made it in.”

 

“Of course you can’t.” Korra rolled her eyes. So Asami still suffered from her usual affliction of impostor syndrome. “I’m really glad that worked out for you.”

 

Another very conspicuously belated sentiment. It had been working out for Asami for multiple paychecks by now. The words didn’t even sit right in the air around them. Quite annoying, how every step Korra took to close the space she had created between them only highlighted the scale of that gulf.

 

“So am I,” said Asami. “But what about you? How is… Tell me how you are.”

 

Korra hoped she was imagining the edge in her words. But it was hard for that syrupy voice to sound cool by accident. If any such thing came through in her tone, then Asami was definitely feeling it: daring Korra to be forthright, whether she meant to or not; do what she had callously neglected to for so long.

 

“I'm… also, uh, getting there,” Korra offered quietly. A meagre offering.

 

“Sure,” said Asami, perfectly warm again. “I’m glad to hear that.” She didn’t probe any further. It looked like she’d learnt not to expect anything from chasing her, Korra thought ruefully.

 

“So,” she said, because she wanted to move on from this moment. She searched her brain. It was almost ironic, how there had been so many things she had wanted to say, mental notes she made for months. Silly things she wanted to report to Asami, if only for her reaction - all she had been itching to know in return (which was more than she probably deserved to) - and now that Asami was here in front of her… What was it? Was it the shock of reunion that had wiped her mind clean? Were they just that far away now, was it too late?

 

Had she wreaked that much damage?

 

Asami’s face was unreadable as she waited, but she didn’t take her eyes off Korra. It might have been unnerving if it were anyone but her. But there was something so innately undangerous about her face, about her eyes. She almost felt consoled.

 

“I just can’t believe you’re here.”

 

 _I can’t believe you’re here, too,_ Korra wanted to say. Expect that, one, that was weird; and, two (more importantly), she had always been here, hadn’t she? There was nothing here for Korra to be disbelieving about.

 

Yet she was, a little. Not at Asami’s presence: she had limitless reserves of kindness and forgiveness, and Korra had no doubt in her mind that she’d return to open arms (grudgingly so or not.) But her _presence_. The dignity in her bearing, the girlish tinge to her voice. How gracefully she leaned on her forearms. The way the air around her was lighter, different, like Korra might start to float if she breathed it in.

 

She hadn’t meant to miss all of those things, too.

 

“I can’t believe,” Korra began, “ I can’t believe you bought a house.”

 

“Mm,” Asami said, raising her eyebrows. “Neither can I, sometimes.” She laughed and shook her head. Another expression flickered briefly across her face; Korra thought it was a positive one.

 

She wanted to know everything about Asami's life. She wished more than ever that she knew where to begin.

 

“How was your trip?” Asami ventured. “I know it's been a few days, but you said your flight got delayed, right?”

 

“Yeah. Five hours,” Korra replied, pouting, “for a flight that lasted like an hour and a half.” It had been a shitty day, as glad as she had been to see the back of her parents’ house in the middle of Absolutely Nowhere, Ontario. She was very pleased to have anticipated Asami’s smirk though.

 

“Could have driven.” Her eyes glittered.

 

“No, I really couldn’t,” Korra said with a dry, placid smile. “Or shouldn’t, more like. For everyone’s sake! Anyway, my dad drove me to the airport in Ottawa, but it wasn’t like he was gonna let me have the car!”

 

“Of course, because you asked, right?” Asami giggled, waving the little menu in her hand. (She was right - Korra’s parents would have gotten on just fine with her mom’s car, had she asked to take her dad’s.) Korra rolled her eyes. Asami made to leave her seat. “Coffee? On me, obviously.”

 

“Latte, please,” Korra said. She could stomach stronger, but she didn’t particularly enjoy it. Tea or hot chocolate were more her style. As she watched Asami make her way towards the counter, Naga’s head popped up against her leg. “You’re not thirsty, are you?” She said quietly. A fulsome kind of feeling crept in her chest as she watched her, and she pulled Naga half into her lap before turning her eyes back on Asami.

 

She looked even taller than before, if it was possible. Her hair fell in a thick wave down her back, tapering just above the leather bag that rested against her hip. She pressed forward on her ankle boots to read off the chalkboard menu, which only served to elongate her lean legs. The barista was clearly smitten.

 

Korra realized she needed a little time. To figure out what she wanted to say to her, and how best to say it. There was no rush, no friendship quite in jeopardy - she had felt that worry leave her bones the moment she had sunk into Asami’s embrace.

 

When Asami returned her eyes were on Naga. “She is so big, seriously!” She exclaimed, sliding Korra her cup.

 

“They grow up so fast,” Korra said soberly through her grin. Naga slipped her paws onto the corner of the table to lift herself forward, blinking and sniffing delicately. Asami softened at the sight.

 

“Aw, baby, I don’t have anything for you,” she said apologetically. Korra decided she could listen to Asami talk to her child forever. Asami sat down. “So they let her stay with you?”

 

“Well, they didn’t get a choice.” Korra smirked. She may have called and yelled at the school housing services once or twice. “I mean, I’m only allowed to stay here till I find my own place, so what more could they say?” She grimaced. “There’s a deadline.”

 

“Then what? They kick you out?” Asami said incredulously.

 

Korra shrugged. “Be just as well. I'm basically staying in a microwave. I guess it is their call. I practically begged them for a room since I don’t have a place sorted.”

 

Asami nodded, frowning. Korra could see the question forming in her gaze. _What made you come back now?_

 

“If I missed any more classes, I’d never finish by the end of this year,” Korra explained without prompting. “And I really wanna graduate on time. I gotta be in the real world. I figured I should get over myself. I’m alright, I just couldn’t suck it up and come back to school.”

 

She still had a feeling that that wasn’t all Asami was (not) asking. Asami nodded again and bowed into her drink.

 

Against her better judgement, Korra continued. “And that explains about ten per cent of what’s been going on, I know. I just… I wasn’t ready. But I knew at least that I needed to get off my ass while I worked things out. I needed the time off, I swear I did. But I’m back now. And I’m really sorry.”

 

She watched Asami exhale intently, still not meeting her gaze. She blinked a few times. Asami’s grip on her cup tightened.

 

“Stay with me.”

 

It was the last thing Korra expected to hear. She was expecting to hear nothing, truth be told; because even Asami had her limits, and she wasn’t like Korra was; she withdrew when she was upset. It took more than a moment for the words to penetrate, and when they did Korra struggled to calibrate them - it was painfully easy to feel the strange weight under them, and equally rather difficult, in the moment, to draw out the reason, what with her heart twisting -

 

It sounded like something Asami could have said six months ago.

 

“What?” Korra said somewhat breathlessly.

 

“My house,” Asami said, as if that explained everything, kind enough to overlook Korra’s obvious confusion. “You need somewhere to stay, right? Well, I’ve got lots of room to spare. Rooms, actually. Several.”

 

Korra breathed. “I… Are you sure?” She had to make a conscious effort to lower her brow.

 

Asami offered a tentative smile. She looked very young for a second, which only made her seem more familiar, and the dull wistful ache in Korra’s chest returned. “You know I could use the company.”

 

Korra bit her lip before anything untoward slipped out. They weren’t quite back at _I love yous_ of friendly enthusiasm yet. “Oh. Me, too.” But she took Asami’s hand over the table. “Thank you so much. I think you just made Naga’s week. You’re the best - really are, always were.”

 

Asami shook it off, though she squeezed Korra’s hand. “It’s not… it’s my pleasure, Korra.” She retracted her hand. “It’s still kind of in shambles, by the way. My house. You’re gonna have to help me sort it out.”

 

“Can’t wait,” Korra grinned. “No rush, of course! Listen, we can work out a lease, whatever suits you best. In your time, Asami. Thank you so much…”

 

“Do you want to see it?” Asami said suddenly. “I’m done for the day so we might as well go back to mine. I could give you a little viewing.” She waggled her eyebrows.

 

Korra couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Let’s hope you impress!”

 

When they stepped outside Korra turned to her again, practically skipping in her excitement, which helped her keep up with Naga, who seemed to be leading them both to the parking lot. “You’re really, really serious? Really sure?”

 

Asami laughed. “You’re starting to sound like you want to stay here.” She slid her arm around Korra’s shoulder, diverting her from her imminent incredulous denial. “You know, I’m just glad you’re letting me help you.”

 

“Just checking,” Korra clarified, unsure what to make of that last statement. “I was thinking maybe you’d forgotten what I’m like to have around, so -”

 

She laughed out loud again. “You want me to carry out a risk assessment? Come on, Korra, I want you…”

 

Well. That was heartening.

 

Asami slowed and looked her full in the face, eyes shining. “But I guess this means you’ll understand if I ever do want to kick you out?” She tightened her arm and smiled, looking like she’d never kick anything out of anywhere.

 

Easy. She was so easy to be around. Korra wondered how she ever let herself forget that.

 

And pretty.

 

Suddenly Naga barked, and Korra felt herself pulled forward by the leash. They had arrived at Asami’s car. Asami withdrew her arm.

 

Korra whistled at the black Miata hardtop. “Long time no see. You know what, Asami, I always thought you’d get a new car first, not a house.”

 

“Hey,” Asami said, ducking into the driver’s seat. She waited for Korra to get in before she continued. “You have Naga, I have… this.” She patted the steering wheel affectionately. “I’m in love with this car... in fact, I don’t know what I’d do without her. Didn’t you miss her, Korra?”

 

“Ew,” Korra said. Naga’s head materialised between them from the backseat. Korra gestured to her. “You know she’s not going to want to leave,” she said, and knew she wasn’t just talking about Naga.

 

There was a second of silence, as Asami concentrated on the sharp turn out of the parking lot. Korra watched her focused eyes and the smooth, rolling movement of her hands on the wheel.

 

“Well,” she said eventually. “I think she could stay the night, don’t you?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

_Now she's back in the atmosphere_  
_With drops of Jupiter in her hair_  
_She acts like summer and walks like rain_  
_Reminds me that there's time to change_  
_Since the return from her stay on the moon_  
_She listens like spring and she talks like June_  

_Tell me, did you sail across the sun_  
_Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded_  
_And that heaven is overrated_

_Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star  
One without a permanent scar  
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?_

◦

 

Between them they were able to haul in all of Korra’s stuff from the car in one go. Naga had managed multiple laps of the living room by the time Asami dumped her pile of bags onto the floor, panting. Korra raised an eyebrow as she deposited the taller tower of luggage in her arms onto the couch with remarkable grace.

 

“Shut up,” Asami said preemptively.

 

“Oh, no,” Korra insisted, “I was going to say that you’re pretty strong.”

 

Asami slumped into the nearest chair and rolled her eyes. She didn’t know why she was feeling so wobbly. “Let’s take a break, huh?”

 

“Already?” Korra said. “We haven’t even unpacked anything.”

 

Asami nodded as she cricked her neck. “I know. We will. I’ll help you. Think work just took a lot out of me today.” She watched Korra’s brow furrow in concern. “Tell you what? You get started on this -” she stuck a hand out in the direction of the luggage they had just dragged in, “and I’ll make us some tea. We’ve a lot to get through before dinner.” Her eyes flickered upwards, indicating the choice of rooms upstairs.

 

Korra nodded and turned her attention back to her things. Naga settled on the couch. Asami sat for a second and simply looked at them before removing herself to the kitchen.

 

They’d had a nice day. All of Asami’s morning had been spent at work, and all of her afternoon in the library; but she counted all that as a good thing, as much as it took out of her, because being so productive happened to make her feel excellent. The weariness was a manageable consequence. Korra had come to sit with her after lunch and brought her own work, and whilst they had both very diligently kept to task, there was something almost serenely uplifting about the company.

 

She still didn’t know why she had done  _ that _ , though. If she had even done the right thing, inviting Korra to move in.

 

Perhaps it was just a rare lapse in care, in proper deliberation and judgement on her part - she was somewhat prone to impulsivity in moments of high emotion, and God knows the emotion had been high in that moment, even if she had tried to betray nothing on her face. The emotion had been high that afternoon. And in the long week since.

 

Asami felt unsure, and underneath that, Asami felt giddy, which somehow only compounded the uncertainty.

 

But really. What was she thinking? She’d had nary a word from her in six months. Did Korra expect to spring back into her life and find a home and bed made?

 

Because if she did, she wouldn’t have been mistaken, apparently. Asami opened the cupboard and drew out two matching teacups, giving her usual one a pass. She put the water on and stared down into the marble worktop.

 

Time. She was supposed to give it time. Wait for Korra to come to her, if she would, because Asami had gone much farther than halfway in her efforts and Korra had neglected to meet her. But her anger, whatever remained of it, was evaporating in the face of curiosity - and of fondness, like she hadn’t felt in quite a long time. Not since… well, since Korra had last been here.

 

The hurt endured. But it didn’t debilitate her, not like she expected it would. Maybe her heart had grown harder in the last six months. It wouldn’t surprise her. Maybe some things were more important than her hurt.

 

Korra needed her. Needed her house, at least, but any variety of need was enough: sometimes Asami resented how  _ easy  _ she was - because in her heart of hearts she had known. Known that the second Korra extended her a tentative hand, she would pull all of her right back into her world like there was no space at all between them to traverse. She was so easy and so hopeless when it came to her.

 

And maybe that wasn’t wrong. It had been in Korra’s every right to leave -  _ that’s  _ what she had  _ needed _ . Asami wanted to believe she had made her peace with the fact. And that peace meant a clear, open mind now: forward, look forward.

 

Besides. A small, tender piece of her harder heart couldn’t help but wonder: maybe this was a token. Korra had returned because she was always meant to come back to her; and this was the sign that Asami’s deepest wishes were not so fanciful.

 

She pushed the thought away even as it came together. Now  _ that  _ was fanciful.

 

Asami poured water into the cups and went to fetch milk and brown sugar. She remembered exactly how Korra took her tea. Hopeless.

 

Korra looked good. She always looked good, but crucially, she looked better. It was hard not to notice the difference a few months had made. There was a spring in her step, an ease in her brow. Asami hadn’t had it in her to deny the request Korra hadn’t even articulated.

 

Plus it was true - she could use the company. The last few months had not been Asami’s best. And while she had grown used to her solitude, she would never grow to like it; that was something she simply had to accept about herself. She wasn’t made to be alone, whatever her lot in life was. She had a feeling Korra had realized it, too. As much as Asami enjoyed being in her own head, it was suffocating sometimes - someone else in her house might help. So really it was for the best, for both their sakes. A roommate could help grant her some welcome respite.

 

It was definitely more than that, still. She knew it was, deep down, because her invitation had been practically automatic. It just wasn’t very fun to confront the fact that her - feelings, whatever they were - had placed such a weighty decision all but out of her hands.

 

Hopeless.

 

It was just so good to see her.

 

Asami took a cup of tea in each of her hands and padded her careful way back to the living room.

 

Korra sat cross-legged, the contents of a canvas bag spilling out onto the rug before her. She looked very at home there on Asami’s floor. Naga lay behind her in the warm light of a table lamp, still wagging her tail.

“I’m trying to figure out,” Korra began, without looking up, “which of these books I’ll actually touch this year.”

 

Asami smiled and held out a cup. “Hey.”

 

Korra's eyes brightened as she glanced up to take it. “Oh, thank you! Two sugars? Don’t give me that look.” She added, when Asami nodded rather disapprovingly.

 

She sat opposite her, placing her own cup in the perfect centre of a nearby floorboard. “You’re lucky you get so much exercise. So what’s all this?”

 

Korra threw a tome at her with considerable effort, even for her. Asami caught and leafed through  _ Global Governance and Diplomacy: Worlds Apart? _ and grinned. “This looks like a page turner.”

 

“You’re lucky you actually get to use your hands so much,” Korra pouted, piling her books before her. “And I’m stuck writing, like, a monograph every month.”

 

Asami shook her head, turning back to the book. Korra was very talented. As much as she bemoaned the trifles of academia, she had an intuitive, practical eye for problem solving that more than a few of the people on her reading list would probably envy. “You should keep all this. You never know when you might need it, and it’s not like we don’t have the space.”

 

We. In our house? She suppressed the faintly embarrassing twinge of delight that threatened to manifest itself in her voice.

 

“You’re probably right,” Korra acknowledged, practically chugging her tea before she hefted  _ International Conflict Resolution: Theory and Practice  _ onto the pile.

 

Asami helped her sort the volumes into stacks that would fit the bookcase. “But it’s not giving you any trouble, right? School, I mean?”

 

Korra’s head bowed in thought for a moment. “No. It’s okay. I did manage to get all my credits last semester, and it’s not going to be hard to get on top of my classes now. Missed the swim team tryouts though.” She smiled sheepishly.

 

“Shame,” Asami said. She’d probably still wager that all Korra would need to do to get on the swim team is ask. They would hardly have people of her calibre knocking every day.

 

“I have some things,” Korra started suddenly. Asami lifted her head in attention at the hesitation in her voice. She saw that Korra was toying with the drawstring of her next bag, a rucksack. “A few things I wanna keep down here, if it’s alright. Don’t plan to be in my room all the time, obviously…”

 

“Of course… Korra! This is your - I don’t know why you’re talking like you’re just couchsurfing or something,” Asami said, drawing her brows together. She took another sip of her tea, frowning. Her perplexity made Korra laugh, albeit rather demurely. (There was something so heart-stopping about that.) She pushed her bag forward in acknowledgement, inviting Asami to unpack it with her.

 

The first thing they pulled out was a snow globe. Asami smiled in recognition.

 

“Oh, I remember this story.”

 

It was a nice story - dear to Korra’s heart and gladdening, in turn, to Asami’s. Sometime in her zappy childhood years, Korra had become fixated on winter vacationing to the resort town of Whistler. Much to her initial dismay and eventual profuse delight, her dad took her snowboarding for the first time somewhere closer to home and much wilder and emptier. It was the best trip of her young life; but unlike resort towns, slopes in the middle of nowhere did not offer memorabilia. Korra’s dad had had the snow globe specially made for her.

 

Asami took it and placed it carefully on a shelf beside the sizeable map of the country she had acquired on her own first road trip ever. When she sat back down Korra had a family photo in her hands.

 

“I’m taking this upstairs,” she said, placing it to the side, before producing another frame.“But see if you can find somewhere for this one to go.”

 

She passed it to Asami, who turned it over curiously - and instantly, Asami felt her own eyes light up. She squeezed the wood of the frame between her fingers. It was the two of them, Mako and Bolin and Opal; plus all of Opal’s brothers, with Tenzin’s kids perched on various shoulders and laps between them. The seventh-inning stretch at Korra’s first baseball game, a lifetime ago. Asami had insisted -  _ insisted _ \- they all come out to see the Mets (she had been somewhat obsessed, not that she wasn’t still.) They were supposed to be giving their best game faces, but most weren't succeeding in being quite that serious (overdoing it, where they were doing it at all), least of all her deliriously happy self.

 

“Wow… goodness,” she breathed, just as Korra said, “Wasn’t that the best day ever?”

 

“Right!” Asami laughed, eyes still on the picture. “Not that I can say much of any of these very natural game faces. Oh, Korra, you used to be so adorable…”

 

“ _ Used to  _ -” Korra’s chin dropped in affront. “Well, so were you and now you look like a yuppie. And your ‘game face’ is a pout, anyway, Asami -”

 

Asami couldn’t afford to feign offence between her laughter, and when Korra saw her she dissolved just as hard into giggles. Korra snatched the photo back amid her glee to get another look, holding it up beside her face to compare. Asami felt warmer than the memory.

 

Next she pulled out a sturdy, sleek plastic water bottle from the bag, still smiling. Out with it came a couple of rolls of kinesio tape.

 

Korra sobered a little when they emerged into view; a sudden, palpable change in her demeanour. Asami could see her anticipating the next question, the natural course of conversation directed by their appearance. She looked a little uncomfortable, a little sad, as long seconds of silence passed. Asami decided not to delay the inevitable any longer.

 

“Are you… are you training again?” She asked, favouring deliberate gentleness over any pretense of a casual manner that would be far less than Korra deserved.

 

Korra seemed to consider for a moment, as if the question demanded more than a yes or no answer. “Well - um, yeah. I guess.” She twisted the drawstring of the bag between her fingers. She didn’t meet Asami’s eyes.

 

“Oh. That’s good to hear.” Softly, Asami tugged the string out of her grasp, so she could take those fingers between her own instead. “It really is." She listened to her breath for a second. "Korra?”

 

Korra met her gaze this time. Asami took comfort in the understanding that Korra had taken comfort from her touch. She didn’t realise why she had said her name, though; perhaps she really had just needed to see her face.

 

And now Korra expected that she had something to say.

 

“It’s nothing,” Asami admitted, heart beating harder by the second. “I’m just glad. And we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” That wasn’t quite it, though. “But if you do want to talk, then we really can. It’s okay - I mean I’m here either way...”

 

Her words faltered. It didn’t matter because Korra pulled herself forward suddenly and threw her arms around Asami’s shoulders. She nearly knocked Asami’s teacup on the way. Asami returned her embrace, but she was, in truth, too taken aback by the vehemence of Korra’s hug to match it.

 

“I really, really, really missed you so much,” Korra murmured after a moment. Asami didn’t see how that answered her previous point, but she felt the forceful blink with each  _ really  _ beside her ear - and felt her heart sink with the words that followed. “I wouldn’t even blame you if you don’t believe that.”

 

Then she had to hold her tighter. 

 

Korra sniffed and softened in her arms. Asami felt her own mouth tremble and rubbed Korra’s back, as the longest moment passed.

 

Yet it was still too short, somehow. How could it feel so… so  _ much _ , just to hold her? She wondered if it would be too impractical to dedicate an evening simply to this, just for the purposes of reacquaintance, for old times’ sake…

 

Presently Korra pulled away, and Asami gave her a reassuring smile. Korra made an attempt to return it before turning to the cup she had almost knocked over. “Let me get these,” she said, rubbing her nose, and stood up. She took both their teacups back to the kitchen.

When she returned, Asami was setting everything to be taken upstairs into a pile.

 

Korra stood in the doorway and folded her arms. The yellow lamplight bathed her, glinting off the buttons of her denim overalls. “You’ve cleaned up in there since last week. You know the faucet has a little leak.”

 

“Oh, yeah. I figured I could take care of that myself. My solicitor did say to flag any little thing up before the sale, but -”

 

“Your solicitor?” Korra asked curiously.

 

Asami shrugged the question off. “Basically a glorified estate agent. She helped me get our old house off my hands, too. I just wanted to make sure everything went off without a hitch, what with my dad… I know both the house and the money was technically mine after - but, you know…”

 

She looked down. She didn’t know how much Korra knew or wanted to know about her father. She didn’t know how much she wanted to tell her. Mostly, Asami didn’t want to revisit it herself. Korra would have known if she was there, after all, and she wasn’t.

 

“Right, I get it,” Korra said, her own eyes averted. “So… should we take all this up?”

 

“You have to pick a room first,” Asami told her. The gleam in Korra’s eyes that followed was more endearing than it had any right to be. Contagious, even. Korra bounded up the stairs and Asami followed her.

 

Her own room was on the top floor of the three storey townhouse. There was another suite next to that master bedroom, and two smaller ones below. Asami supposed Korra would choose the bigger room, next to hers, but to her surprise she opted for the first spare room on the second floor.

 

“I figure you should have your own floor… like a condo! You bought this place for yourself after all,” she explained over the stairs.

 

Asami didn’t know why she was disappointed. “Actually -” She began, waving a hand around the first room as they reached it. “It’d make our lives easier if you picked a different one. See, this one hasn’t got a bed. I was actually hoping to make this our - um, like a study… office… thing,” she said with a short laugh.

 

Korra raised her head in understanding and moved backwards to the guest room across the hall, the other free one on this floor. “This better?”

 

Asami grinned as her next thought came together. “It is, but…” she said, urging Korra inside. An anticipatory smile emerged on Korra’s face when she saw Asami’s. “It’s got a single bed."

 

Korra stopped and looked and considered. Asami knew that she had been deterred - Korra made a queen size bed feel like a single (she’d had the ‘displeasure’ of first-hand experience once or twice.) “Sure you wouldn’t like the room upstairs?”

 

“You don’t mind?”

 

“Of course not. I told you you could pick.”

 

Korra softened, and then she brightened. “Well, that’s another flight of stairs for us to lug my stuff up!”

 

They did just that and then they sat on the floor, back to the bags. First Korra set to putting the rest of her knick knacks on the desk.

 

“You mind if I start?” Asami gestured to the remainder of the luggage, her hand hovering above the grey duffel bag that was closest to her.

 

“Go ahead,” Korra said casually and Asami paused for a second before doing so. It was rather sweet, and just a little bit striking, how Korra seemed to trust her implicitly with her belongings. Asami didn’t know if she’d let anyone unpack her things for her.

 

She watched Korra take out the final items in her rucksack, two shiny medals that she placed into the desk drawer. She was about to ask her if she didn’t want to display them downstairs when another thought occurred to her and she stopped herself - and when Korra answered her silent query anyway.

 

“You’re probably wondering why these aren’t at my parents’. I brought them with me ‘cause I know they’d wanna put them up. And I just don’t know what I want to do with them yet.”

 

They were her IAAF World U20 medals, one silver, one gold; won in a wonderful, sunny week in Eugene, Oregon. Asami hadn’t been there but she’d heard the stories. And she thought she could imagine it quite well, because she knew what a stunningly brilliant athlete Korra was. It was incredible; it was Korra’s whole world; and it was only supposed to be the start of a streak that took her much, much further. This was all the pride that those medals had represented.

 

And now, even half a year after her injury, it seemed as though Korra could hardly bear to look at them. Asami wouldn’t bother her about it.

 

Korra attended to her bedding next, and when she was done she threw herself right back onto the bed, releasing a long, satisfied sigh.

 

“Make yourself at home,” Asami laughed. She placed the last of Korra’s sweaters atop a neat, overwhelmingly blue pile.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Korra said out of nowhere, eyes up at the ceiling. Then she turned to look at Asami. Her hair was splayed over the cotton covers and her eyes were so soft. “‘Cause you don’t have to help me. I know there are probably a million other things you could be doing.”

 

Asami glanced down with a smile. “Not really.”

 

“I wish I’d brought you something,” Korra continued. “Like, as thanks. I thought I could make you dinner or something, but then I realised we wouldn’t have the time with all this…” She made a vague gesture towards the piles of clothing. “But, you know,” she said suddenly as she sat up. “We could still celebrate! I mean, I have something to celebrate at least, don't I?” She gave Asami a shy smile. “Let’s go out, and I’ll buy you dinner.”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Asami began to say, but she hoped that she’d remember this forever - Korra’s precious face at the prospect of still being able to treat her.

 

“Come on,” Korra insisted. “It’s Friday night. And I haven’t gotten a hold of you all week until today.”

 

Asami found no reason to resist. To be honest, her heart was just about leaping to end a long day with Korra with a pleasant evening with Korra.

 

She could probably, certainly get used to this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prefacing with lyrics, we are really in tropetastic modern au territory now ^_^ I hope someone's having as much fun as I am 
> 
> please note that this story will probably not have much Drama (discounting intense pining) if that's your thing, please stick around for... burgeoning domesticity


	4. Chapter 4

_Home is where I want to be_  
_But I guess I'm already there_  
_I come home, she lifted up her wings_  
_I guess that this must be the place_  
_I can't tell one from another_  
_Did I find you or you find me?_  
_There was a time before we were born_  
_If someone asks this is where I'll be_

◦

 

Living with Asami was about as difficult as Korra had expected (not very difficult), and the only surprises it entailed were small and wonderful.

 

Like how Korra’s used cups and glasses were already vanished by the time she went to put them away, and how sometimes Naga was already refreshed from a morning walk by the time Korra got herself out of bed. She was used to Asami’s propensity for small, unexpected gifts but she hadn’t anticipated how they might translate to these little favours that she never even deigned to mention. Korra kept forgetting how much she had forgotten.

 

(“You know you’re such a people pleaser,” she said one evening as she lifted the laundry out of Asami’s reluctant hands. Asami made a face, chin jutting. “Not that that’s a bad thing!" Korra had clarified. "You please people a good amount. Well, I mean, you please me a lot.”

 

Asami had turned a strange shade and Korra had laughed the embarrassment away for her.)

 

Like how she made her to-do lists on a mini whiteboard on the fridge, and not on her phone like before, because they ‘felt more urgent’ that way. When Korra read them on the way to fetch milk or juice she always thought that there was more of Asami in them than she perhaps meant to put in. Five new spidery additions at once told her Asami was going to have a fast and industrious day and some dinner might put the first smile on her face in hours. A rather esoteric bullet point that read like it was lifted straight out of a paper said she would probably be in her head (or at least her room) the whole day. Items embellished with doodles or picked out in Japanese on a whim indicated a much easier time; and Korra could expect to be sprung with a hug or an invitation to go out, or both multiple times if Asami was really on top of things.

 

(“You can use the board if you like, by the way,” Asami had told her sometime in the first week, scrawling down their joint charge of  _ Costco tomorrow _ with her unoccupied hand, as she handed Korra a bag of chips with the other. She barely squeezed the last few letters in, pen knocking against the frame of the board.

 

“I think you’re doing enough for both of us,” Korra had smirked.)

 

Like the fact that she always kept flowers on the dining table, bought new ones on the way home every weekend. She made a point of telling Korra the name and instructions for care each time.

 

(“I know you probably don’t expect someone like me to do this,” she was explaining on their first full day together, as she shoved a new bouquet of hyacinths into the vase on the table. “But it’s because there’s like nothing fresh in this house. Not even food,” she had said somewhat apologetically, indicating the tin of peaches Korra was eating out of. “Anyway,” she said, shuffling the stems around, “these are supposed to be very fallish. They’re lovely, don’t you think?”

 

Korra did, but she thought Asami’s minor, rather whimsical way of trying to keep a little life in her life was even more so.)

 

Like the fact that Asami kept a US map rather than a world map because that way ‘there’ll actually be new things to pin once in a while.' And the fact that she only used pink pins to mark cities on it, though she had a container of all colours.

 

(“Are the rest for your future family?” Korra teased when she first noticed the container, smiling before she even got the thought out. She peered at the map on her tiptoes. “Oh, when d’you go to Richmond?” They had been talking travel over dessert, shortly after Korra’s parents called to inform her that they were going fishing at Calabogie Lake for their anniversary.

 

Asami opened her mouth and closed it again before saying, “Work trip. And I don’t know… I… potentially.” She returned the smile carefully. “It’s for cohesion, okay?”)

 

So November got on as easy as she and Asami did. One rainy evening Korra and Naga came in to find Asami curled on the sofa with a notepad in her hand. She looked as cosy as Korra wanted to feel after the walk home. Naga leapt across the carpet and half into Asami’s lap before Korra could open her mouth and stop her, shaking a trail of droplets on her way.

 

“No - no, Naga! Ugh,” Korra said, deflating from urgent to dejected in a syllable. “Sorry…” She pouted, pulling her gloves off.

 

“Wet dog. Lovely,” Asami said, but she smiled at Naga as she manhandled her out of her lap as if to tell her she didn’t mean that. “It’s okay. You’re late, though. Had fun?”

 

Korra flashed her eyebrows, brushing her coat off so she could hang it up. “As much fun as you can have across a table from Tenzin.” She grinned at Asami’s expression. “I’m kidding! Everyone was there, actually. It was a lot of fun! I missed those kids.”

 

She certainly had. They were Korra’s family away from family. There was always time for them in her day, twenty deadlines or no. She supposed Tenzin would sort of be like her godfather, if godfathers were something her family did. She loved them all dearly, whatever the case; had done so since four years ago when her parents had told her to make the old family friend that just happened to be tenured at her university her new emergency contact.

 

“They asked after you, by the way,” Korra said, shucking her shoes off. “I was worried Tenzin would ask why I moved in with you and not them…” She kicked the boots into the corner. “But I think Pema might have clued him in on the various reasons why a college girl might not want an extended family quite just yet.” Asami laughed as Korra leaned over the back of the nearest chair. “I brought you so much food.”

 

Asami beamed at her from behind the notepad. “You brought yourself so much food.”

 

“Did not! Pema basically made me take it when I told her work kept you from coming. It’s a shame.”

 

“I know,” Asami said. “And Bolin wanted to drag me to the theatre this evening, too…” She gave a regretful shrug as she picked her pencil up.

 

Korra nodded, smiling down. The spot next to Asami practically invited her. “Mm, Asami, you’re in such high demand.”

 

And here, now, Korra was the one that actually got to have her.

 

She flopped onto the couch, pushing Naga between her feet so she could dry her off. Asami shuffled further up to make space. Korra glanced at her profile and then gently over her shoulder.

 

“What are you writing?” She said, combing her fingers through Naga’s fur. Her voice came out quieter than she had expected; she supposed that some part of her didn’t want to disrupt Asami’s peace.

 

Asami took a second to step out of her concentration, but she wasn’t irked in the slightest. “Drawing,” she said after a moment, angling her notepad so Korra could see.

 

“Oh,” Korra said. Asami had sketched a skyline, above a picturesque stretch of street complete with birds on rooftops and tiny bare branches on roadside trees. Korra knew she sometimes had to work on landscapes like this one - Asami's firm specialised in urban spaces - but this was obviously not a technical impression. “That’s pretty,” she told her, leaning further against her to get more of the detail.

 

Asami moved her hand out of the way to give Korra a better look. When she touched Korra’s wrist on the way she stopped and clasped her fingers. “You’re still freezing… man, doesn’t it bother you?” She leant closer before Korra could answer. “You even smell cold.”

 

Korra gave a short laugh, resisting the urge to brush the fingers in her grasp. “Not really... no.” She lifted her forearm and sniffed, recalling a little thought that had come to her several times in the last few days. “I actually smell like you.” She couldn't figure out how she felt about that.

 

“The fabric softener,” Asami said (corrected), before adding somewhat curiously, “Hope it’s not to your dislike.”

 

It really, really wasn’t. Though Korra wouldn’t be able to name to her what exactly smelling of Asami was.

 

She gestured back to the drawing as Asami lifted her fingers away from hers. “Where is this? It kinda looks familiar.”

 

Again, Asami took her time replying. “Um… nowhere in particular. A bit of everywhere.” Korra watched her attention return fully to the drawing. Asami gave her naked trees the odd stubborn leaf.

 

Korra watched as Asami sketched; and since she had to all but lean on Asami to do so, she let her head fall against her shoulder. The action was not rejected, not that she had expected it to be. She kept watching, felt their breaths align. It was a while before she opened her mouth again.

 

“So you got everything you wanted done today?”

 

“Mm… yeah, I think so.” Asami said, eyes still focused. She put little stars in the swathe of sky across the top of the page. The sound of her pencil scratching on the page was oddly calming.

 

“You should give it a moon,” Korra suggested, drawing Asami out of her trance again, though she gave little sign that she had heard.

 

Asami drew the moon in reply.

 

Korra still watched, but she watched more than the paper. Asami’s eyes blinked heavy as she bit on the end of her pencil, eyes metres deep in the drawing. There was a wispy flyaway on her cheek that she swiped away with the edge of the pencil. There was a tiny stray speck of mascara on her lower eyelid.

 

And there had been these moments, lately, and this was another of them. There was something so perfectly enticing about Asami - when she was perfectly at ease, perfectly in her element, as she often was at home. Korra was veritably thrilled that her presence didn’t appear to disturb it. She would consider herself privileged, even. She was accessible, that’s what Asami was: even when she was barely granting her questions an answer Korra felt welcome in her very space.

 

So it was only natural that these instances were something of a double-edged knife to Korra’s heart. What had she ever feared in reaching out to her? The question resounded louder with each such moment.

 

“Have you eaten?” Korra asked.

 

Asami nodded her head.

 

“Want a drink?”

 

Asami nodded.

 

“Am I distracting you?”

 

She lifted her head and smiled at last. “Of course not.” She jabbed Korra’s cheek with the end of the pencil as if she had said something insolent (and Korra remembered that - well, that it had been in her mouth.) “What do you wanna drink? There’s wine in the rack by the dishwasher.”

 

“I was thinking,” Korra admitted, suppressing a sheepish smile, “I was thinking hot chocolate.”

 

“Oh. Well, that works too!” Asami laughed.

 

Korra stole herself away, and in the kitchen she took a very deep breath, for some reason.

 

By the time she returned Asami had set the notebook aside. She was sat on the carpet, bending over a pile of papers on the coffee table.

 

She held out an envelope to Korra. “I forgot to tell you when you got in - this came for you.” The smile on her face told Korra it was definitely not a bill.

 

She placed two mugs of hot chocolate on the table before taking it, upon which her heart warmed. She ran a hand over her address, written in her mother’s hand, before tearing the envelope open. A fairly sturdy rectangle of paper fell into her hand.

 

“Oh! They sent a picture,” she exclaimed, examining it fondly. “My parents,” she explained. “From Calabogie Lake.” The photo was frankly lovely - her mom, her dad (both flushed) and the shiniest catch she had ever seen; and if she was anywhere but with Asami on a cosy evening in it might have made her homesick. She handed the photograph back to Asami and sat down to shake out the remaining contents of the envelope. She pulled out two handwritten sheets stapled together and a couple of foil-wrapped chocolate bars. Korra held the letter up and read as fast as she could.

 

Asami’s voice drew her attention for a second. “They’re having way too much fun.”

 

Korra nodded, before casting a dejected a glance across the numerous books and folders on the table. “Wish we could run away and go fishing.” But the sparkle in her eyes returned as she held the letter out to Asami. “My parents are feeling very grateful for you, by the way.”

 

Asami raised her brow for permission and Korra had to say, “Go ahead,” before she accepted it somewhat hesitantly.

 

But she watched Asami’s face light up as she read.

 

“The second page,” Korra said, “Mom wrote out this blackberry clafoutis recipe I forgot to get before I left.”

 

Asami flipped the page, scanned it, and looked at her questioningly. Korra knew she knew what she wanted. “Well, we don’t have blackberries,” Asami said, confirming her supposition. “But we have cherries and blueberries. You wanna try making this?”

 

Korra brightened even more, if that was possible. “Yes!” She stood up immediately and the chocolate fell out of her lap. She caught it and held up one of the bars before placing it on the table. “I guess this one’s for you.”

 

She led Asami to the kitchen, stopping to pick their hot chocolate up, and they carried out a swift search for the remaining ingredients. Discovering the final element of a pack of almonds at the back of the snack drawer made Korra more excited than it perhaps should have.

 

As Korra threw flour, eggs, sugar and milk into a bowl, Asami searched for a suitable pan. Korra stuck a wooden spoon in the batter and reminisced. “In the winter, my mom makes this with crowberries. When she wants to be particularly traditional." She glanced at the cupboard door behind which Asami had disappeared. "You know, I’m glad about this, ‘cause I still haven’t done anything for you for giving me a place to stay.”

 

“What?” Asami called, under the clamour of pots and pans.

 

“You didn’t let me buy you dinner that time, remember,” Korra explained when she emerged. “So I’m glad I can bake you something.”

 

“Oh,” Asami breathed, the blush on her cheeks and the baking dish clutched in both her hands making her look particularly (almost overly) sweet. She quickly turned doubtful, though. “Korra, you make dinner all the time.”

 

“Yeah, for dinner. Not for you.” Korra kept her gaze on the mixture swirling under her hand.

 

“Oh, whatever,” Asami smiled. She held the pan up. “Will this do?”

 

Korra took it, greased it, and poured the berries and the batter in. Meanwhile, Asami fixed the photo of Korra’s parents onto the fridge with a magnet.

 

When she noticed, Korra's eyes widened in approval. “Yes, put it there! Thank you.” She licked her fingers and set the pan aside. “Alright, so we have to let this, um -” she peered at the letter on the worktop, trying to avoid touching it with her greasy hands “- ‘macerate’ for a while before it goes in the oven.”

 

She washed her hands and pulled herself onto the sideboard to wait, hot chocolate in hand.

 

Asami took her own drink, but she stood back from the fridge rather than sitting and smiled at the photograph.

 

“They are so adorable,” she said.

 

“Spare me.” Korra rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help a grin.

 

Asami shook her head. “You love them.”

 

Korra took a sip and smiled at her as she licked the chocolate off her lips, something of a challenge in her eyes. “Embarrassing. Nah.”

 

But Asami nodded in understanding as if she had asked Korra a more serious question, and she looked softer than Korra would have anticipated. Not unhappy, but… delicate. Korra wondered when the last time she spoke of her parents was. She reached over and took her hand, rather awkwardly for the mug in her other hand. Whatever - maybe the impracticality would help to emphasise the concern she sought to convey. Asami avoided her gaze but she returned Korra's grip.

 

“You miss them yet?” She said after a moment, tilting her head sympathetically, preemptively; but Korra found that it didn’t annoy her at all.

 

“Well... I wouldn’t wanna be third wheeling their anniversary trip.”

 

“Hah! Okay,” Asami conceded. She looked up again, brightening. “How many years, again?”

 

“Twenty-five,” Korra said through her teeth, like confronting the very prospect was too much of a commitment. She removed her hand from Asami's and placed it back on her mug.

 

“Sounds like a dream,” Asami echoed. She gave a resigned huff. “I don’t remember the last time I wanted someone for more than twenty five minutes.”

 

Korra snickered. “Oh, well, that's long enough for some fun." Asami covered her mouth with the heel of her hand and they both giggled again, but Korra was ready to pry some more. "So… nobody since... ?" Asami rolled her eyes. Korra continued thoughtfully. "Me neither. Though, you know... I went to the gym with Mako yesterday. He - he looks good." She watched the rather wary curiosity manifest in Asami's face, but it subsided when she realised Korra was only being so serious.

 

She nodded knowingly. "That he does. Unfortunately there's more wanting. But I'd love for your parents to let me in on what that is."

 

Korra snorted. "Please don't ask."

 

Asami promised her with a blink. "They’re, like, so in love, though...” She gestured to the photo again, twinkling somewhat.

 

Korra absorbed Asami's demeanour, that lovely and familiar lightness of air around her, for what felt like several minutes but certainly wasn’t; began to wonder if twenty five years was really so unimaginable a length of time for which to play house; and suddenly found herself reeling at her train of thought.

 

She slipped off the sideboard. “I gotta put - I’m gonna go say goodnight to Naga,” she got out, and made for the living room.

 

Once there she considered why, lately, every time she left a room with Asami in it, it was to process - to recover from - some sensation she had unwittingly, innocently produced. She pressed her lips together as she bent to stroke Naga.

 

The wall clock, the only one in this house, said 11.48. Late. She could unpack the intricacy of her emotions another day. Korra kissed Naga and went back to the kitchen.

 

Asami was leaning against the wall, scrolling intently through her phone. She looked up briefly and eagerly when Korra entered. After Korra had put the clafoutis in the oven Asami called her over.

 

“I wanted to show you this,” she said. She made to give Korra the phone before drawing it back to her chest for a moment. “It’s just that that photo reminded me. I found this when I was clearing out the old house.”

 

She turned the screen so Korra could see. It was a careful scan of a somewhat worn but beautifully printed photograph - a very tall, very pretty, very pregnant woman in a doorway, resplendent in a wide-brimmed hat and an elegant wrap dress. Maybe the prettiest Korra had seen. The colours popped, but not more than her eyes.

 

“It’s my mom,” Asami supplied rather unnecessarily. “I’d never seen this one before. And, well - I know it’s not  _ of  _ me…”

 

“Holy shit, she is so beautiful,” Korra said.

 

“I know,” Asami whispered, matching her tone with a tight smile.

 

Korra braved it. “Just like you. She literally looks just like you.”

 

Asami rolled her eyes but she braced a hand on Korra’s arm as she clicked off the photo. “How long till dessert?”

 

“Not long,” Korra assured, slipping her own phone out from her pocket. She had just noticed the  _ Asphalt 8 _ app on Asami’s homescreen - Asami’s very favourite (multiplayer) racing game, one that in the past they had both wasted good hours on. (Though Korra wouldn't say wasted, because a little healthy competition had brought them infinitely closer.) She produced a pleasant smile. “But can I make the wait shorter?”

 

“What are you,” Asami sniggered, biting her lip, “what are you suggest - oh.” Korra tapped the game open before her eyes. “Oh, alright. You’re on.” In a mere second, she had shifted from utterly, weakeningly endearing to challenging, not that her challenge wasn't endearing to Korra. “I bet you haven’t been practising - you, I’ll own you!”

 

“Or,” Korra flashed a grin, hopping back onto the worktop, fingers at the ready. “Or," she raised her brow, "I'll have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please excuse any chapters not on time in the coming weeks (deadlines and holiday commitments really impede someone who writes as slowly/painfully as i do) -thanks for reading as always!


	5. Chapter 5

_I leaned on you today_  
_I regularly hurt but never say_  
_I nearly wore the window through_  
_Where was air sea rescue?_  
_The cavalry with tea and sympathy_  
_You were there_  
_Puncture repair_

◦

 

Asami had told a little lie. It was rather that she hadn’t said anything; a lie by omission, as she surreptitiously reminded herself. For self preservation. If she had said  _ yes  _ to Korra’s question about any romantic interests, it would only provoke the inevitable follow-up and then she would have to cook up an intricate something far worse than a lie by omission.

 

She  _ had  _ wanted somebody for more than twenty five minutes, and that was only the frivolous way of putting it.

 

Still, Asami couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being... duplicitous. Letting Korra brush the fallen leaves out of her hair on the sidewalk when she could hardly exhale for the feeling.  

 

At least it made things even, she told herself. This way they had both kept some things. She baulked at the idea that it was some kind of _payback_ , chastised herself for the very notion, even - but still. It wasn’t like Korra had been divulging very much. Asami still couldn’t decide if it was in her right to be upset. So she left it at the concession (the admission) that she  _ was _ , in some way, without seeking to bestow a value judgment on the feeling. Feelings were like that, anyway. They just were.

 

“You’re not going to campus?” Korra asked one morning, when she came downstairs to find Asami shining her favourite boots.

 

Once upon a time, the last week of the semester would have meant that things were easing off. It was quite the different story these days, but when the workload doubled up Asami doubled down; and she had found herself with an ironically empty schedule amidst the busiest of weeks.

 

Korra continued before she could answer and Asami detected a deliberate lightness in her voice. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

 

A small silence followed. Was she owed an explanation? Asami had found that she didn’t really know some of the terms of their cohabitation - they had neglected to lay many down, for better or worse; and as such new ones were being found and cleared and set every day.

 

“I was just wondering,” Korra clarified, pulling her sneakers on.

 

“I was at the library,” Asami said. She was unable to help her laugh. “Being so productive that I have basically nothing to do now.”

 

Korra arched her brow, grinning. “Look at you.” She stopped mid-step suddenly, her rucksack hanging off her arm mid-elbow. “In that case, can I have a favour?” She stared at Asami imploringly, blinking big eyes, as multiple cereal bars threatened to slip out of the bag’s unfastened neck.

 

_ Anything _ , Asami could have said, but she opted for, “Probably.”

 

“Take Naga out for me?” Her head tilted, only making the earnest picture earnester. “Because I have like twenty deadlines today…”

 

“Sure,” said Asami.

 

Korra had managed to manage her bag into her arms. She squeezed them in time with a grateful smile, and Asami could almost feel it. “Just bring her with you if you go out,” Korra said.

 

So Asami did.

 

As the days shortened the wind had become colder, so she was almost glad for Naga’s limitless enthusiasm. She had her practically jogging at times; and Asami couldn’t have counted the number of fond stares they received on both of her mittened hands. It was surprisingly invigorating to be dragged through city streets by an inexplicably exuberant dog (she figured Naga just liked her) - in fact, Asami had found it suited her enough to make a habit of it in the past few weeks, much to Korra’s delight.

 

She lifted Naga into her arms as they approached the florist they had been making the general direction of. Naga was no longer particularly liftable, truth be told, but Asami somehow managed it with her current affection for her, if nothing else. A silvery bell rung as she entered, and immediately upon seeing her the man at the counter smiled.  

 

His name didn’t come to her, but she knew she knew his name (more than his name, in fact, from several months of counter conversations); and that it would come…

 

“Jacinto?” She ventured carefully, somewhat unbalanced by a smidge of pre-emptive embarrassment.

 

“There you go,” he laughed. “Hi! You got a dog?!”

 

“No, no,” Asami said quickly, letting Naga down. “This - she - is Naga. My roommate’s.”

 

“You got a  _ roommate! _ "

 

Asami laughed. Jacinto was a very personable man. He usually worked weekends for his family’s business, and Asami usually came on weekends. They kept running into each other; unlikely and not unwelcome in a city as big as this one. Today was Tuesday. Asami watched his gigantic brown eyes follow Naga as she padded around shop.

 

“So beautiful! What is she?”  

 

“Oh,” Asami said, “I believe she is an... Akbash Pyrenees cross. Very playful for one, though.” She twisted the fingertip of her glove.

 

He turned his smiling eyes on her when Naga did the same. Asami’s chilly toes warmed a little. “And your roommate? As pretty as this one?”

 

She gave a short laugh, bracing a hand on the counter. “My friend, actually - Korra. Um, she moved in a while ago. Yeah. So - tell me what’s in season...?”

 

When Asami finally got back, she had more than the flowers to array. She strung a dainty length of fairy light around the doorway that separated the kitchen and living space; and another along the blinds on the anterior wall of the room. A denser, dimmer string coiled around the single plant next to the very sleek, modern fireplace.

 

All the lights twinkled. Asami took a distinct and distinctly warm pleasure in her space. Prettifying her own new house, for ‘their’ first winter; like those newlyweds who spent months anticipating their first Christmas alone together.  _ She  _ didn’t really do Christmas. Neither did Korra. But any excuse to ornament was excuse enough for her; and besides, she felt different this year.

 

Winter break was not traditionally her favourite time of year. Everyone on earth was stolen away by some relative or other. Asami made a mental note to ask Korra if she had plans to go home.

 

On which note - there was something else she had meant to get. Because any excuse was excuse enough for presents, too. She gave Naga her lunch and took her back into the car.

 

 

This time, when she returned with her armfuls of shopping, Korra was home, much to her surprise. She was making good use of the very spacious drawing room floor. If there was anything off about her subdued, "Hi," Asami missed it for her own gnawing hunger. She came back with a bowl of noodles and sat, justifying Korra's silence with her concentration.

 

It was inexplicably satisfying to watch Korra work out. Not like _ that  _ (well, not  _ just _ like that); but it brought something of the old, old Korra back to Asami, not that the new one was particularly different. It brought back the energy - the verve of determination and quiet confidence (or loud confidence; they both seemed to suit her just fine.) Korra in the content company of nothing but her own fine faculties.

 

And Asami, in this case. But she chose to keep aside for a reason.

 

Korra was beautiful in her element. She had a lot of elements, to be sure, but this was indubitably one of her best. Asami chose not to believe that her talents would be wasted if she never competed again - but it was a loss to that world, and not to Korra (she believed, for her sake) at the end of the day. Here she was in perfect control.

 

It was only when Korra finished up and sat herself on the floor that Asami saw something amiss. The realisation struck like something pitched without warning into her field of vision. Korra slumped, pulling the soles of her feet together, staring into the circle of leg that they created.

 

Asami was well aware that Korra liked to literally work her feelings out.

 

There were some days, she knew. She had them, too. She considered whether anything would come of pushing Korra; not for the first time, but the first time in a while.

 

“Did… did something happen today?”

 

She watched the line in Korra's shoulders tense. Asami held the same tension in her chest, and they both mounted.

 

“Too much on your plate? It's okay if...” The softness of her own voice surprised her.

 

“No,” Korra said eventually.

 

Asami waited for an explanation. Dared Korra for it, because she had figured she deserved to by this point. “No… so…”

 

Korra released an exasperated sigh, and it was she that looked to Asami for explanation.

 

“That's just it. Nothing happened.” Her voice wobbled. “I just don't know why I feel so shitty all of a sudden.” She breathed a sigh that was too reminiscent of a gasp for Asami's comfort. “For no reason. What's wrong with me?”

 

It took a moment to process - then Asami set her spoon in her bowl and her bowl carefully down. “No reason can be reason enough apparently. Just - it’ll pass, Korra. Trust me.”

 

Korra gave her a tentative glance that nonetheless suggested that she did trust her. It was enough of a sign for Asami, and she took a deep breath.

 

“Hey, you're fine. Bear with it. I know it’s hard. You just kind of have to wait it out...” She got up off the chair quickly, because their curre nt spatial configuration was just about the final touch needed to make her words tip over into patronising. She knelt beside Korra.

 

“You look like you’re in great shape, by the way. And - you're doing so much better. Amazing, these past couple of months -“

 

“Exactly,” Korra interrupted, desperate enough that Asami took a silent moment to fortify her heart. Of course. That probably made it all the worse, to Korra who built her world on practical actions that might yield straightforward results. Get healthier, feel better. “So - so why…?”

 

Asami laid a gentle hand on her upper arm and sighed. “I know how desperate you feel. How shitty. And how much this is probably not helping. But you’re not failing, and it’s not forever.”

 

After a second, Korra gave her a watery pout. “It's just. Sometimes it just feels like I'm so… far behind.”

 

Asami felt her brow knit, and the stab of revulsion that found her gut left no space even for sympathy to slide in.

 

She loathed it. Every person and day and moment that had taught Korra there was only one purpose, one path for her to be on. That had neglected to teach her the sheer scope of her soul beyond some stupid ability. There was something dangerous in being so singularly gifted; being  _ destined _ , as coaches and commentators and friends and foes so confidently asserted. Because it  _ had  _ been her life.

 

And it was disorientating, at the very least, to lose your life.

 

“After I got injured, I just… didn’t know where to pick up,” Korra said slowly. Asami appreciated the effort she was making. “Like, what I had minus all that. I mean, I wasn’t looking at anything beyond the Pan-Ams. That was the only thing that mattered to me.”

 

“That’s not the only thing that mattered  _ about  _ you.” She took her hand. “Or matters.”

 

“I know. I know that now. It’s just… recalibrating.” Korra released a shaky laugh. “I don’t know if -” She looked down at Asami’s hand in hers, and Asami felt very conspicuous for a second “- do you ever feel like… you’re not where you’re supposed to be?”

 

Asami stared at the side of her head for a long moment, as Korra continued to look pointedly down. She chose her words carefully. “Maybe. Only if there’s some kind of  _ timetable  _ you’re not willing to relinquish.” She drew her hand back, and Korra’s eyes with it. “I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

 

Korra’s sniff gave way to a slight and uncertain nod. “I wish I didn’t feel like this.”

 

“Mm,” said Asami. “You know, I used to try to make myself just grit my teeth and get with it through days like this, but I think you just have to… let it out. Feel it.” She raised her brow with the suggestion. “And then it’s gone, right? Let it make its mess and leave. Because tomorrow you won’t be worse for it.”

 

Some of the dejection in Korra’s face subsided into gratitude, and some still into curiosity. “I didn’t know you felt like that, Asami.”

 

Well, no. She probably hadn’t deigned to wonder.

 

“I wish that you had told me,” Korra continued quietly. “Or that I even asked, I guess. Ugh. Something  _ is  _ wrong.” Her expression became more aggrieved. “I still don’t believe how... you know, I’m just really glad you’re not upset at me.”

 

She looked at Asami expectantly (pleadingly, even, after a moment), awaiting the inevitable corroboration.

 

Asami did not provide it, because she didn’t want to lie again. Korra’s stricken face struck her heart in its own excruciating turn, but Asami didn’t assuage her fear. A truth by omission. For an unbearably painful moment she watched the dawning comprehension in Korra’s eyes, before they began to blink fast, blink in the understanding almost despairingly, and blink away its result. Then her mouth began to twist.

 

“Right,” she barely whispered.

 

Asami’s own eyes smarted. But she bit her lip and stood her ground, though it rocked by second.

 

“You are,” Korra summarised breathlessly, finally, just to make it extra painful.

 

The girl felt every feeling on her face. This one cut Asami quicker than she could possibly steel herself. She averted her eyes to the ceiling, though the wet of her lashes muddled her vision anyway. Korra turned downwards, in contrast, more resignation in the bow of her shoulders than would have Asami ever wanted to witness.

 

“I gotta - I need some water,” Korra said briefly, and slipped away like she could hardly move fast enough.

 

Asami heard the sound of the water in kitchen. She waited a minute. Her head and heart reconvened, painfully. Painfully for the remorse. Damn it.

 

Because there were several things making it hard for Asami to stay upset with Korra, and she had realised it the second her silence had drawn irrevocably long.

 

There was her quiet struggle that she suffered still. There was her undeniable care in every venture of their new joint life. There was was her gratitude. There was her relief. There was her implicit trust. There was _ her _ .

 

Maybe what Asami had needed was simply time, and not to throw it in Korra’s face.

 

She pulled herself off the floor and strode into the kitchen.

 

Asami found herself to Korra’s back. Korra had her hands braced on the sideboard, a glass of water beside one of them.

 

“Listen,” Asami said, unable to stop her automatic fingers on the back of Korra's arm. For an awful second she thought Korra would do what she had never once done and recoil from her touch. But Korra stiffened and turned, and Asami realised she had confirmed a worst fear. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to draw her into her arms.

 

Asami pressed her lips together. It was her turn to implore. “I’m sorry. That is not what you needed to hear.”

 

Korra released a tremulous breath. “No, it is. I mean, it’s my fault. You’re right to be upset because of me.” The widest, prettiest, saddest eyes met Asami’s again. “But I don’t know what to do.” The tightness of her throat choked the quiet admission off.

 

Asami gestured her to her, involuntarily almost. Korra’s little crash into her arms felt like a blessing. “No. Because of you doesn’t equal your _fault_. I know that you’re doing your best.” Korra nodded into her shoulder and Asami tightened her grip. “I’m not gonna be mad at you.” She took her by the shoulder with a wry smile. “I think I was supposed to be cheering you up, for crying out loud.”

 

Korra’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Not your job.”

 

Asami crinkled her nose. “Of course it is.”

 

Korra withdrew her arms and pushed herself onto the sideboard. It was very… characteristic, and Asami’s heart eased a little. “You’re really, really good to me, you know that?” Korra swallowed and said.

 

“Because you deserve it,” Asami told her. Dared her to believe it. Willed her not to dwell too hard on it.

 

Korra was silent, but as always the gratitude was evident on her face. “What do you deserve, Asami?” She ventured after a moment. “I’m thinking, like, a million dollars; three dogs. And a harem - listen, I’d buy you a better car if I could afford to -”

 

“Shh… shut up,” Asami said through her smile, and shook her head in perplexity briefly. “My car is fine.” Then she fixed Korra with a more serious stare. “You don’t owe me, okay?” No punchline, no caveat. “You’re doing enough, I promise.”

 

Korra was heartened. And unconvinced. Asami saw it on her face.

 

“I got really scared,” she started suddenly, but slowly, averting her eyes from Asami’s. “The more I thought about it, the more it felt like it was too late. To call you,” she clarified, fingers curling in her palm. “I really wanted to, after a while. I wanted you to say all the things you used to, that I imagined you would. I kept… thinking about that.” A gale force wind of an exhale followed.

 

Asami waited, somewhat transfixed.

 

“Which made it worse. Because then what if I called you and you were just… angry, like you should be? And so on… you know. I just wanted - I wanted your kindness. It was selfish.” Her voice caught again.

 

Asami opened her mouth, only for a sigh of her own to emerge in place of words.

 

“And in the process, I forgot how easy it would have been to just pick up the phone. To talk to you.”

 

This time it was Korra who pulled Asami into her. Asami took in her open face and accepted the offering of love. Of an explanation. It was a labour of love, she knew - this honest apology Korra had wrought into shape for her, evidently a little painfully, even amidst her own moment of despondency.

 

“It’s okay, I get it,” Asami said softly, after an age.

 

“Of course you do. I should have known that you would.”

 

Against her Korra was restful at last.

 

Asami cleared her throat after a moment. “So… do you, um, did you like what I did with the decor?”

 

“Yes!” Korra slid herself onto the ground. Asami followed her back into the living room. “See, that did cheer me up a bit. Naga loved it, didn’t she?” She said knowingly.

 

Laughing, Asami nodded. She perched on the edge of the couch upon which Naga was lazing. “She was wonderful today,” Asami exclaimed, prodding her with her knuckles. Naga scrambled against her leg with a giant paw, nearly pulling Asami into the couch. “ _ Woah _ \- we had fun, didn’t we, girl? Yes, we did...”

 

Korra cast Naga a dirty look. “Okay, whatever. She’s not your real mom.”

 

Asami rolled her eyes, but the comment wedged itself rather disproportionately large in her heart. She smiled and tossed her head towards the dining table. “Look what the cute florist gave me half price.”

 

Korra’s eyes widened as they came to rest on the fresh vase of freesias. “Half price - so he  _ half  _ bought you flowers?! He did that.” She shook her head and cackled. “You took them?”

 

Asami shrugged. “Half price.”

 

“Fine. Good call,” she commended. She sat down at the table and examined them, pushing gentle fingers through the stems. “They smell really good. Oh, lots of water…”

 

“Yeah, they’re thirsty. Cold water. Half full, every day.”

 

“‘Kay,” Korra said, nose in a bloom. “Any… grooming?”

 

Asami was growing to love this weekly ritual. “I trimmed the stems. You just have to make sure none of the new little blooms are below the water line. They start to rot…shouldn’t last more than a week, anyway. So we might not actually have flowers on Christmas.” She laughed, only now realising her oversight.

 

“Oh,” Korra said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you - my mom and dad asked me to come home. Just for a week or so. I was wondering -”

 

Asami grinned. “If I would drive you?” She had Korra beat.

 

Korra huffed and hid her laugh behind her fist. “Well, I was going to put it in nicer words… seriously, I’m not kidding. But do you wanna come?” Asami was a minute in replying and Korra appeared to have anticipated her hesitation easily. “You know they would love to have you. They told me to ask. And I think you could use a break.”

 

“I... I don’t know - do you want me to?”

 

Korra nodded almost shyly, but with not a drop of Asami’s hesitation.

 

Asami bit her lip, though. “You should be with your family. Maybe I’m shouldn’t be imposing...”

 

Korra gave her a look that suggested she couldn’t impose if her life depended on it. Then she smiled with a disarming tenderness in her gaze - that Asami had not anticipated; that subsequently left Asami breathless.

 

“Maybe it's exactly where you’re supposed to be.”


	6. Chapter 6

   
_In the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder,_  
_Hair falling forward, mouth all askew_  
_Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead:_  
_"Passengers missing, we're looking for you"_  
_And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me,_  
_Face pressed into the corduroy grooves_  
_Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means nothing,_  
_Maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move_

 

◦

 

“I can’t believe I’m the one having to rush _you_ , but we literally gotta go!”

 

Korra bounced her leg for emphasis, duly aided by both the springiness of Asami’s bed and Naga’s impatient bark. She had sat herself down on what felt like the sole unoccupied square inch. The rest of the bed had Asami’s clothes strewn all over them.

 

“Yes, yeah,” Asami said dismissively, busy with the zip of her suitcase. She managed to pull it closed at last and huffed loudly. “Just give me a minute, okay? Go wait in the car if you’re in such a hurry…” She trailed off, restive voice disappearing with her into her en suite.

 

Korra minded less than she let on, even though she really did want to reach her parents’ before midnight. Well, it was going to be a tiring drive whatever way, especially with the residual _intensity_ of last night in her head - the very same that had made Asami so uncharacteristically late and lazy today. It probably hadn’t been the brightest idea to go out the night before an effective road trip, she thought with a minor sliver of remorse. Fuck Bolin, for persuading them out at such an inopportune time. It was like his smooth-talking was actually getting good.

 

She sighed and glanced around Asami’s room for the hundredth time. It was not her least visited in the house (that would be the guest bedroom), but between the living room and the dining room and the kitchen and the study she never had too much reason to seek Asami’s company out here. Besides, Asami liked to keep her bed for bed activities, namely sleeping.

 

Korra bent around to look at the clock on the bedside table and sighed again. Asami was taking her sweet time today. _You’re not going to Fashion Week,_ Korra had told her, _you’re going to eat and sleep indoors for a week_ ; but that didn’t appear to deter the almost fastidious manner with which Asami was packing. Korra didn’t _understand_ , but she understood - squeezing the ideal winter look into a tiny suitcase was not going to be easy for someone with Asami’s aesthetic sensibilities.

 

“You know, my parents probably wouldn’t care if you showed up in Naga’s blanket,” Korra said when she reappeared with a kit of toiletries.

 

“I know.” Asami finally cracked a smile. “But I do.”

 

In the car a long ten minutes later, Asami tapped the zip code into her phone and punctuated the start of their journey with a violent, if adorable, sneeze.

 

“Oh, you’re getting sick.” Korra made a mildly disgusted proclamation of what was supposed to be a question, as if it explained away all of Asami’s irritability today (which it kind of it.) In reply Asami sneezed again. Then she gave her a look that was somewhere between resigned and needlessly apologetic, as she twisted her hair somewhat forcefully into a swishy ponytail. Naga’s actual tail swished between the passenger and driver's’ seat momentarily and Asami sneezed again.

 

It wasn’t a bad drive, all things considered, even if Korra was actually moved on multiple occasions to ask if she should take over for a bit. Asami had dismissed her each time and told her just to help keep her spirits up. Which Korra seemed to be rather good at, to her own weird and quiet exhilaration. Really good at. Korra’s every (admittedly) crappy joke and her every impressive radio singalong (if she did say so herself) seemed to help Asami’s spirits; and Korra’s in turn soared a little farther than she might have been willing to admit.

 

“Okay, I really wish I hadn’t put this eyeliner on,” Asami sniffed through watery blinks at one point, “I feel like I gotta scrape my face off…”

 

“Okay,” Korra replied, already all action. She dug a wet towelette out of the glove compartment and wiped Asami’s face clean, whilst Asami kept her hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. The friction left her skin a little redder than before, even.

 

“Thanks,” Asami breathed with a self-deprecating laugh. “Man, you're pragmatic... I guess I look like it was scraped off now.” Korra snorted at the rather morbid comment and let it distract away the urge to pat her poor face cool.

 

Sometime near the completion of the sixth hour, at the point where slow tiredness was making Asami silent and all but stationary at the wheel for long minutes, a vague trepidation crept into Korra’s mind. Naga was asleep. Asami yawned. Korra stole a glance at her heavy blank eyes.

 

“You know I’m really glad you’re coming,” she said suddenly, after clearing her throat to prick the bloated air back into motion. Asami turned her head wordlessly. “And I hope you enjoy yourself but… I apologise in advance if you don’t - you know my parents are very, um - and I know you kinda like your own space -”

 

She noticed Asami’s face then; and perceived very clearly that Asami had perhaps had enough of her own space. A moment that veered on awkward passed.

 

“Never mind,” Korra said. “I just meant that I hope you don’t feel like I’ve dragged you here.”

 

Asami’s mouth quirked at last, though not yet into a clear smile. “Well, I can turn for Montreal if you like. There’s still time. I haven’t had poutine in, like, a decade.” She raised a marginally sarcastic brow, above tired eyes. In which there was not a hint of perturbation.

 

How was she so gentle always? Maybe it was something about the quiet of Asami’s unassuming voice, scratchy but not rough from disuse, or her frame against the stark and dark of the highway whooshing behind - Korra felt an unbearably intense draw to her for a second.

 

“I’m gonna call mom and tell her to make soup,” she said, unfolding her arms. Asami huffed under her little smile and turned back to the road.

 

It was quite simple, really, and she didn’t mind confronting the fact the way she did a fair few Asami-related things of late.

 

Korra didn’t want her to be alone.

 

Not this year. Not after her father. And not after - not after what Korra herself had (not) done, if those things were at all comparable. Which they were, she had to admit. The bottom line was the leaving, the unexpected and unexplained nature of it. The callousness, she had willed herself to acknowledge.

 

Well, Korra was starting on the explaining; and starting to make good, at that. As far as she could tell. Asami wasn’t hard to read for her, she thought with some pride, but it could have been that she was just good at hiding what she was hiding, _that_ she was hiding. In any case, it was hard to believe that she might be dishonest with Korra. Korra certainly didn’t believe that.

 

Korra’s mom and dad had of course waited up to eat with them, though it was well after midnight when they arrived. She couldn't have anticipated the feeling she felt upon reunion, because she hadn’t thought too much of her parents since she had departed. Her own heart surprised her when the many months of missing them flooded her all at once; now when she was back, ironically enough. She found herself practically clinging to her dad when they sat on the couches around the fire after dinner.

 

Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised, because she had felt that feeling already and worse this year. When Asami sat by her after six months of sitting about four hundred miles away, Korra had never felt the freshly concluded absence more profoundly, never wanted her more.

 

Was that a weird way to put it? She had wanted her.

 

When her mom pulled a new scarf around her shoulders (Korra’s first gift) and her dad threw his own arm around them, most of the ache was sated.

 

She looked over at Asami, tucked in the right angle of the sofa with a scratchy-looking blanket draped over her lap and - here, after a whole season of her - still felt… wanting.

 

Asami caught her gaze and gave her a small, questioning smile.

 

Korra smiled back.

 

Several seconds must have passed, because Korra noticed that she had drawn her dad's eye, too. She snapped out of it when his voice materialized near her ear. He addressed Asami, smiling warmly. “Feel any better?”

 

Korra watched Asami’s nose scrunch, but then her eyes gleamed in acknowledgement above a wry smile. “Think I just have to wait this one out,” she said.

 

He nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry that my daughter’s having you chauffeur her around in a state like this. You know she just has to get her way…” They shared a look at Korra’s expense, but she found she didn’t mind. “You’re not finding her too much, are you, Asami?”

 

_Are you, Asami?_ Korra matched her dad’s expectant eyes on her friend, a tentative whiff of curiosity on her little laugh.

 

“Be honest,” joked her dad, and Asami giggled.

 

“I don’t know,” she offered, eyes widening in a tease. “What’s the right answer?”

 

“Oh, sh.” Korra rolled her eyes. She wriggled away when her dad tightened his arm in an attempt at that typical unmerited (and consequently irksome) reassurance he was so given to. “And you, Dad.”

 

Just then, Naga appeared her feet, decked out in her own new Christmas present: a spiffy, very fluffy collar and cape. She stared up to the couch and then at Korra and whined a plea. “Stop mewling,” Korra said, and patted her up beside her, where she curled rather demurely against the cushions, wagging her tail into Korra’s hand. The sight leavened Korra’s spirit. “Look at you, fancypants - look at this _finery._ " She stroked her tail. "All chic now, hm? Think you’re all that?” Naga extended her a paw daintily, and tucked her head as far as it would go between the cushions, which was not very far at all. “She really does believe she’s smaller than she actually is,” Korra said with humour and affection.

 

“Angel,” Asami said; and that was her patented term of endearment for Naga.

 

Korra’s very late comeback finally made its arrival at her comment. “You know, Dad, you’re not even asking the right questions.” The two on her either side looked to her in curious attention. “I think Asami’s a sucky roommate,” she said matter-of-factly. “Irresponsible. Can’t keep herself to herself. She got all these lipstick marks all over Naga the other day - had to spend the entire evening scrubbing it out... I was going to say, get a room -”

 

“Shut up,” Asami said, shaking her head. She was bright red. Pale enough to blush even at slighter provocations, to Korra’s great advantage. (It felt like a game between them sometimes, that Asami could win squarely through nothing but compliments - so Korra figured she could play a little dirtier.)

 

“Well, I think Naga deserves all the love she can get,” her dad said, quite unnecessarily, reaching over Korra to scratch her downy doggy ears.

 

That was funny to Korra, because her first thought was that it went the other way. Asami deserved all the love she could get.

 

And she was probably in the right place for it.

 

Korra’s mom strode into the sitting room from the kitchen. “I have cranberry punch,” she announced. “Let me bring it to you while it’s hot?” When Asami sneezed in answer, she gave her a pitiful stare. “I could make you a hot toddy, honey, if you can give me a minute to fetch the brandy,” she said to her, instantly sweeter. “That might suit you better. Yeah?”

 

Asami nodded behind her tissue, and Korra noticed the extra half-second it took her to digest the offer; how she was unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of favours that didn’t have to be returned. She didn't even appear to realise that the offer wasn't really a question. “You don’t have - thank you…” she mumbled, when Korra’s mom went right back through the door again without waiting for a reply.

 

Korra kept her own sudden sadness to herself, but the thought of Asami’s family began to cross her mind more than usual.

 

Favours. She had an unasked one of her own lined up. Another bit of making good.

 

When her parents drove away on their final mammoth grocery run, she urged Asami off with them so that she could see a little of the town (or the nearest town; they really did live in the middle of nowhere) - and maybe that would help her spirits, because nobody could really love the combination of sick and shut in in the dead of winter.

 

Korra took the extra hour to fire up the ancient printer in her parents’ store room, and with about twenty tabs of mail open on her computer, she set to work. She wasn't going to think twice.

 

On Christmas eve her parents prepared a minor feast; and it was one of those moments where Korra couldn’t love them more. Tomorrow they had to entertain Korra’s cousins, and her mom and dad made it perfectly clear that they knew this meant tonight was their only chance to actually enjoy Christmas.

 

“Knock yourselves out, girls,” her dad said with more snark than he could usually muster on an average day, after he had hung up on an exchange so brusque you would be hard pressed to believe he was speaking to his own brother. “Please. Make it worth tomorrow.”

 

“Gifts at midnight!” Her mom exclaimed, in an immediate attempt to salvage the mood, though her smirk belied her own quiet distaste.

 

Korra and Asami found it funny, and quite enjoyed the somewhat conspiratorial and cathartic family bitching her parents all but encouraged them to partake in, in addition to mountains of poultry, wild salmon, wine and coffee shortbread. (Asami had apparently mentioned offhand on their grocery trip that she liked the flavour, and true to form, her parents had managed to produce a surprise bucketload of it, you know, “for Christmas!”)

 

“God, I love them,” Asami said unabashedly in the kitchen after dinner. “They don’t hold back!” Korra grinned and slid her the glass she had just poured, and they toasted to nothing in particular but their own great decision to come home. Tipsy Asami was… even more demonstrative than usual. “I’m so glad you brought me,” she said, with an absent smile at the stack of dishes before her.

 

“Oh, we are, too.”

 

They both turned at the voice in the doorway. Asami was mildly startled, and her flush deepened - but Korra’s mom carried right on with that deft emotional intuition that was so comforting about her. “And you’re welcome any time -” Her eyes alighted on the bottle Korra had just been pouring from - “just like that port…” And after snatching it up she walked casually back to the dining room.

 

When she had left, Asami leaned back against the counter, taking care not to knock any dishes. She was silent for a moment. When she spoke she didn’t turn to address Korra.

 

“My dad, he’d never,” she began, “he’d _have_ never… I don’t know. He wouldn’t have fun like this? Let himself, I mean. Well, I don’t know. I don’t know if I ever really got into his head.” She struggled to appropriately qualify her feelings.

 

Korra wondered how to let her know that she didn’t have to. She folded away the dish towel in her hands and gave Asami her full attention.

 

“He just wasn’t like this,” she continued. “And that’s not so bad. Nobody’s fault, in any case… But I just miss - not _miss_ \- I mean, I just wonder if… not _if_. ” She paused and gave her a brief, pained smile. “But why we just…”

 

Why she couldn’t have this?

 

Korra didn’t say it out loud. It wasn’t her place to do so. “Right,” she said instead. Her next words came quieter. “But you miss him?”

 

“It’s not even that simple,” Asami admitted. The only thickness in her voice was from the cold. “I’m upset he _let_ me miss him. And now…” She shook her head, catching the glint of her watch as she looked down. “Whatever.” Korra read 23:57 on her own phone. Then Asami offered her her hand.

 

That wasn’t an offer Korra would ever refuse, so although she really didn’t think it was _whatever_ , she let Asami lead her back to her parents so they could commence with the gifts.

 

There was something there for everyone, even for _them_ \- them like the two of them. That was nice. Korra let Asami open it, because she was already swimming in innumerable material tokens of her parents’ love. It was a cute pair of hand-painted cups, an identical set. Asami absolutely loved them, and Korra loved that as much as the gift itself.

 

“Think of it as a very overdue housewarming present,” said her mom. “Your dad wasn’t sure - said 'tableware' was just wedding gift stuff...” Korra was grateful that Asami was occupied with the label sticker, so she didn’t have to see Korra's face at the comment. “But I thought these were lovely. Who doesn't need crockery?”

 

Asami had a veritable goodie basket for Korra, including an assortment of hair accessories chosen impeccably to her taste (and not Asami’s own, which Korra acknowledged must have been quite an exercise in restraint.) “Cause I said I couldn’t figure out how keep the short hair out of my face, right?” She smiled, pushing a new blue pin behind her ear. There was also a cookbook, _10 Minute Michelin Star Meals_ , which Korra raised her eyebrow at as her dad laughingly explained, to Asami's chagrin, that shopping for someone you lived with was invariably shopping for your own benefit. Then another little book - of actual little teabags this time; and to round it off a final item on the edible theme, a box of Japanese-made fruit jellies.

 

Korra's gift to Asami was a quality set of pencils, with colours that she hadn't even known had names. “I hope you got this on sale,” Asami laughed, but she practically emanated joy.

 

Korra grinned. “You gotta do me, okay? Um, draw me,” she clarified, though Asami had taken her point with no trouble.

 

Asami laughed again. “Okay, but manage your expectations.” She enveloped her in a quick but hearty hug.

 

“I have something else for you, too,” Korra said, deciding on the spot that this was the time to broach it. But she hesitated when she remembered that they were in her parents’ company. “Later,” she added after a pause, when Asami pulled back with her brow knit in curiosity, hoping mom and dad wouldn't read too much from the exchange they had just witnessed.

 

When later came around, she only felt trepidation. Asami was understandably piqued. They sat on the edge of Korra’s bed, after she had snatched a large envelope off the topmost shelf above the desk.

 

“Oh, this is pretty,” Asami said softly, feathering the pearly crepe paper of the envelope with tentative fingers. She looked at Korra searchingly, unsure whether she was meant await an explanation before receiving it.

 

Korra swallowed, keeping her grip on the gift. “This isn’t - it’s not a present, per se. Not just because you don’t have to take it… It’s like… something you should have had anyway? Well, just open it,” she finished hastily.

 

Asami lifted it out of Korra’s hands carefully, though the question in her eyes didn’t abate. Korra stared down at her fidgeting hands and waited. From the corner of her vision she saw Asami’s confusion deepen when she peeked inside - until her eyes began to devour the first slip of paper within and suddenly her countenance changed. Whether it was for the better, Korra couldn’t decide, because Asami’s mouth pursed as she read and she glanced upwards when she had finished, as if to blink something irritating away. Her thumb rifled over the remaining sheets inside before she slipped the first one back with them. Then she looked at Korra, who cleared her throat.

 

“You don’t have to read those, by the way. I just wanted you to know… it’s not that I never tried to write to you. Thank goodness for automatic drafts, right?” She sighed, because she wasn’t good at explaining; and now that it was just too late to take it all back, regret was looming fast in her chest. “They’re not - I just don’t feel like they’re mine to keep. They were for you. Not that I’m unloading…”

 

Asami cut her off. “I know this can’t have been easy.” Korra couldn’t miss the waver in her voice. “So, um, I won’t look at them unless - until you’re really sure…”

 

“Will you take them?”

 

Immediately, Asami pressed the envelope to her chest and nodded quickly. Her eyes closed tight, lids crinkling with the pressure. Korra lifted her hands vaguely (they itched at the sight of Asami's emotion), and once Asami had laid the envelope aside she pulled her in. “I really appreciate this, I know it can’t have been easy,” she repeated against her ear. She felt her hesitate. “I love you, okay?”

 

Korra melted, and simultaneously she froze. No part of her was about to let her voice it back, though, which was strange, because she did love Asami, she really, _really_ did. And she had said as much in the past. “Mm,” she mumbled, tightening her hold, “aren’t I lucky?”

 

Asami rolled her eyes as they drew apart, but she was smiling. “That’s not the right answer,” she giggled and sniffed. She gave Korra’s forearms another squeeze before taking the envelope back into her hands. Its purple matched Asami's nail polish, which made Korra smile inside. And the way Asami held it back to her chest made her insides smile. Asami's nose was a little red and she had wisely forgone any makeup, though she had a pretty pair of earrings on. Both things made her look softer than usual, almost as soft as she was inside. “What now?” She said, blinking and swiping her sleeve across her face.

 

The question drew Korra out of Asami and back into the room, into the evening. Back to Earth, she realised, from a sneaking space in her mind that she had been inhabiting with increasing frequency. She looked down sharply, away from Asami. “Well, I think you need another drink,” she said, reaching for the tissue box on her bedside table and holding it out to her.

 

When they made it back to her parents in the sitting room, there was indeed a decanter waiting, contents spiced and heated to perfection this time. Korra was glad that her mom didn’t sit up to give her space on the larger couch, because it meant Asami could lean against her on the other one.

 

“Bed?” Her dad asked about an hour later, when they were all out of wine and conversation.

 

“You go on,” Korra said, leaning up to kiss both her parents goodnight. “I’ll work my way out of here in a sec.” She gestured to her side, as her dad tousled her hair and they left with sleepy smiles.

 

Asami had fallen asleep on Korra’s shoulder. It was hard enough for her to get to sleep at will with a cold - Korra knew that, so she stayed put for a while. Put her thoughts to rest. When at last she had carefully eased herself off the couch, she unhooked Asami’s dangly earrings and tucked a blanket over her. Swept her hair out off where it stuck to her sweater so she didn't sleep on it. Then she turned the lights out and went to bed. They had a long day tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays!! i was thinking of [these cups](https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/218504129/espresso-cup-set-sake-cup-set-unique?ref=related-2) for their gift, because they seemed to me like the modern au incarnation of the kind asami brought korra tea in, also if anyone is rich and wants to buy me a gift..................


	7. Chapter 7

_I was only walking through your neighborhood_  
_Saw your light on, honey; in the cold I stood_  
_Anywhere I go there you are_  
_Anywhere I go there you are_  
  
_I've been getting used to waking up with you_  
_I 've been getting used to waking up here_  
_Anywhere I go there you are_  
_Anywhere I go there you are_

◦

 

If anything, the new year made Asami feel that she should put away that envelope of letters for good - she didn’t want to dwell on the past, take both of them back to a corner of it she would rather forget; and more than that, she didn’t really believe that she should be reading messages that, ultimately, Korra  _ hadn’t  _ sent her.

 

Whatever she had ‘meant’ to do, whatever she had done for Christmas - the Korra that wrote those emails had not sent them. It was possible that that Korra no longer even existed - the one lost deep inside of herself, lost to Asami to the point that she had been un-Korra-like enough to anger Asami - but Asami wanted to respect her choices nonetheless.

 

So she didn’t scratch her itch yet, and made do with re- (and re-, and re-) reading the note that covered the sheaf of letters.

 

_ Asami, _

_ It’s not true that I never thought of you, or that I never wanted to talk to you. I don’t know if you believe that I forgot about you, but I can’t stand the thought that you might. So yes (for the millionth time!!!!) I’m sorry _

_ I did think about you. I did miss you. I did write you. Here’s your proof. YOURS - these all belong to you. _

_ Love, Korra _

_ (Heart, heart, heart, smiley face.) _

 

It had almost made her cry on Christmas Eve. She’d been full of a lot of different feelings, not least an intermittent misery at the state of her sinuses.

 

She had passed the cold on to Korra now, who did not miss an opportunity to remind her of the fact.

 

Currently Korra was on her laptop at the dining table, a perfect mirror to Asami across her; except that Asami’s feet were not tucked in lotus position whilst sat on a chair, as if there wasn’t a more comfortable position to contort your body into.

 

“You’re being too nice,” Korra tutted, as Asami finished reading her the email she had drafted.

 

“You think so?” Asami replied, resigned but also genuinely curious. This was one of those things that she’d figured Korra had noted as a true shortcoming of hers, something she almost pitied about Asami - or that it felt like she should, given how enviably forthright she herself was always able to be.

 

“This is like your third time trying to schedule this meeting, right? Tell him to give you your fucking time,” Korra said plainly, with a laugh. She continued after a second, lifting rather tender eyes to Asami’s as if she had read her mind. “Not that it’s a bad thing, you know. I mean, I could probably use some of your niceness.”

 

Asami paused in her speedy redraft to shake her head. “You are  _ so  _ nice. And without being a pushover.”

 

“Well. To you.” She received a brief smile and words so quiet she almost didn’t catch them, before Korra cleared her throat noisily and spoke up again, though true attention was still absent from her voice. “Fine, then, your finesse. I could use some of that.”

 

Asami couldn’t scoff hard enough.

 

She watched Korra press her lips together as she stared at her screen. Korra was not quite in the mood for this back and forth right now, Asami could tell, and not just because of her current affliction. (After all, that would’ve been a prime moment for a "not nice enough not to make me sick!" type comment.) She noticed Asami’s gaze, though, and schooled her features out of their frown as she met it.

 

Asami didn’t have to ask  _ are you alright? _ for Korra to hear it; and some of the tension withdrew from Korra’s body as she made to reply. “Oh, it’s just that… well, they’re supposed to get back to me about that internship today, so…” She gestured helplessly at her computer and tapped her fingers on the table. “Anyway, my head hurts.”

 

Right. It was well past evening. Korra had every reason to be jittery, then.

 

It wasn’t an easy gig she had applied to, though Asami had every reason to believe Korra was qualified for it. Korra loved to go big (something particularly lovable about her), so a UN internship was never something she would write off anyway - but being in New York, a stone’s throw from the HQ, as she had enthusiastically described to Asami, had made it feel as though it would almost be remiss not to try. She had charmed her delightful way through the interviews, and her credentials were pretty much top notch; so all they had left to do, really, was hope for the shot.

 

The ding of her phone pulled Asami from her thoughts. What she saw lightened her mind considerably, and her first instinct was to relay it to Korra, though she took a moment to steel against the imminent blush on her face.

 

“Can I distract you for a moment, Korra? Since that reply isn’t coming any faster…”

 

She had Korra’s attention. Asami picked up her phone and smiled. “So you remember the flower shop guy? Jacinto. Well, his family are doing flowers for this huge catering expo downtown. Basically a banquet." She watched the conclusion dawn on Korra's face with every next word. "And, well, he asked if I would like to come with him. Since it’s right by my work - wipe that smile off your face!” Asami laughed, though some of it got lost in her flustered voice.

 

Korra threw her head back, grinning. “Shit. Here I didn’t even know he had your number!”

 

Asami shook her head, smiling at the phone again.

 

“So? Are you going?”

 

Was she? She shrugged, evading the question. “Well - you know how late I have to work…”

 

“He really likes you, huh?” Korra said, heedless of her words, sitting back with her arms folded, and examining Asami as if with new eyes. Asami avoided her gaze, shied under it, glad somehow that she wasn’t asking the opposite question.

 

“Good thing he hasn’t met you,” Asami said darkly, for something to say. “That would probably be the end of me and Jacinto, then.”

 

Korra appeared to reject the notion outright, but she was happy to continue teasing. “That why you infected me? To keep me out of your way?”

 

Asami rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “Oh, be quiet. Hey.” She nodded forward. “You haven’t refreshed you mail for two minutes.”

 

Immediately Korra sobered, and of course she couldn’t help but check again. Asami almost felt bad for reminding her, until she saw the smile that split Korra’s face.

 

“Yes! Yes! ” Korra pressed her fists to her chest before raising them triumphantly. “Ugh,  _ yes _ .” She repeated with a clap, rising out of her seat in excitement. Asami would have risen to congratulate her, too, but Korra came to her first, and didn’t wait for arms to open before throwing her own around Asami. She effused glee.

 

Though she most definitely did not do so, Asami could have kissed her. Korra was simply contagious, and that was not the cold but her infectious delight. Asami's heart swelled in her chest, not that there was much space for it with the way Korra was squeezing her.

 

Unperturbed, she waited to be released, before enveloping Korra into another hug, where this time she might also be an active participant. “Korra! God, I'm so happy for you!” Korra nodded against her, excitement bubbling into the pressure of her fingertips in Asami’s shoulders. She was still a little warmer than ideal, poor thing, but it wasn’t like any feverishness was going to curtail her joy right now. Asami released her with a final irresistible squeeze.

 

Korra paced a jubilant circuit of the room, work abandoned, before running to get herself another cup of tea.The silly little grin did not leave her face. She wasn’t exactly the picture of health or proficiency - messy-haired, in pajamas and braless - but after the good news Korra practically vibrated with that singular energy; the same that had Asami so frequently, invigoratingly, helplessly hopeless. Now Korra was stooping to relay the news to a surprisingly unreactive Naga (though Asami herself was not surprised by Naga's fatigued mood, since Naga had literally run them both ragged at the park that afternoon.)

 

Maybe it was the periodic cough that interrupted Korra's smile or the dark ringing her shiny eyes, but the intensely nurturing strain in Asami that she sometimes sought to suppress was being drawn out; and there was only one way that she really felt like celebrating.

 

“Come here,” Asami said, settling on the sofa, as Korra left Naga with a playful little kick for her indifference. “You really gotta rest if you wanna get better soon.”

 

Korra climbed over the side of the couch, fixing her with a smile as she collapsed next to her. “Oh, are we resting?” She nudged Asami with her hand, conceding immediately to this proposed activity when Asami sat forward and brought Korra’s head into her shoulder. “Well, fine. I love your cuddles.”

 

Not a new sentiment, though Asami had never heard it in words before. Her touch eased Korra, she had known that a long time; felt it through long nights long months ago. She understood that Korra had meant that more as a sly request than a sweet compliment - it was easy to see that their joint excitement had buoyed her into such a free and candid state that she would ask for Asami’s attention that way. Asami brushed it off with a ‘hm’, even if it did make her happy in ways she wouldn’t want Korra to know.

 

“Does your head still hurt?” She murmured, not waiting for Korra’s reply to pull her head into her lap. She had made her wishes clear after all.

 

As she shuffled herself comfortable in her newly prone position, Korra wondered aloud, “We should celebrate… No?”

 

“I don’t think you should be drinking,” Asami said, foreseeing her train of thought. She brushed the hair from her forehead, making sure to feel Korra's temperature with the pads of her fingers as she pulled them slow over her skin. Korra blinked softly before letting her eyes fall close, and Asami watched her swallow, and exhale, and lean slightly into her touch. She pushed a gentle hand through the roots of her hair.

 

She never, ever had to worry about saying too much - there were about ten different mental filters that her words went through before leaving her mouth. But sometimes Asami worried about doing it. 

 

Some parts of her - hands and eyes and arms - were more instinctive, less cautious in the moment than she permitted her mind to be. It was just easier to let Korra draw them. To give in.

 

Korra made it easy, and, well, if Korra didn’t mind - didn’t hesitate to even seek outright - this sort of intimacy, then was there really anything so wrong with Asami taking her own pleasure from it? Whatever kind of pleasure that couldn’t help but be. She stroked a thumb, not too soft, though she felt nothing but soft inside, along Korra's brow bone on either side.

 

Korra made a quiet, low sound of relief in her throat before she spoke again. “There’s a bunch of people in my policy class that promised to go out with me if I made it in. Really, I think they were just impressed how quick I went for it.”

 

“Oh, it is impressive,” Asami insisted gently, smoothing Korra’s hair clean away from her forehead, as if she was preparing to place a kiss there, though she definitely didn’t do that. Korra’s face was tranquil, though in her own lap her fingers curled slightly. Asami felt her own breath slow as she tended to Korra, tracing her ears, pressing cool fingertips behind them. “You know what I really love, and admire, and envy about you?”

 

Korra’s eyes opened. She blushed. “That’s a lot of verbs.”

 

Asami willed away the breath-stealing flutter in her own chest at the image of Korra blushing under her hands, though she could admit that that notion wasn’t totally accurate. Korra continued to not close her eyes.

 

Maybe she did have to worry about saying too much. And yet Asami carried on talking. She couldn't well leave her hanging.

 

“You just go for things. You can do that without being a hundred per cent on whether it’s right or whether  _ you're  _ right or if it’ll work out. That’s confidence. It’s seriously awesome.” She tugged an earlobe for emphasis.

 

Korra’s blush deepened, but a smile bloomed under it. “What is this?” She tittered. “The complete care package? You’re supposed to be treating me  _ this  _ way -” She reached up and touched Asami’s hand with her own.

 

“I’m just saying.” Asami shoved it away gently, because her heartbeat had suddenly accelerated with the contact. She deliberately switched the position of her own hand to Korra’s crown and scratched lightly; easy cover.

 

“You work hard,” Korra said, unprompted, some of her growing doziness seeping into her voice.

 

Asami was listening.

 

“You put a lot of effort into everything you do. I’m not just talking about  _ work  _ work. You’re really kind to everyone, you do favours really well. Without asking sometimes -”

 

That was quite enough. “Thank you,” Asami said softly. “You don’t have to say that.”

 

If anything, Korra looked a little offended. “It’s true.”

 

Asami placated her with a smile and the stroke of her fingers through her hair. That, too, though. The sweet talk, this -  _ caressing - _ she would do well not to get used to it; and she arrived at this thought too late every time they found themselves this way. It simply was not conducive to a sustainable long haul friendship. One where Asami might conceivably take the same quiet pleasure from petting other people; where, in all likelihood, Korra left one day to play house with someone else, and Asami’s heart remained intact.

 

Korra licked her lips to speak again. “So how come you said to no to Flower Boy?”

 

“I didn’t say -” Asami stopped short and gave in with a slight sigh. Korra knew. Korra knew her well enough to read that answer, and hopefully not other things. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna give him the wrong idea.”

 

Blinking out of a stupidly endearing yawn, Korra asked, “What’s the right idea?”

 

Asami took a moment, coiling a silky strand of brown hair around her fingers. “Uh… That I do really like him, but I don’t - I don’t really wanna date... anybody…”

 

The contradiction evident in that sentiment was immediately conveyed by Korra’s expression. She tried her best to be constructive, though. “Oh. Well. Maybe you could just… see where it goes?”

 

Asami shook her head, and Korra didn’t push it. She seemed drawn away in her thought for a bit, but it could have been the drowsiness sweeping over her again. She jerked back to her after a moment. “Mm. I’m gonna fall asleep.”

 

“You want me to stop?” Asami said, though she didn’t still her hands yet.

 

Korra gave a minuscule shake of the head. It made Asami smile. “Don’t worry. Fall asleep.” Half a nod, and then Korra eyes fell shut again. Her exhale stirred a strand of hair that had fallen against her cheek, so Asami combed it all back again, relishing the warmth and mild scent of her skin, the tickle of her breath against her wrist.

 

She would tell herself not to get used to this, if it wasn’t already something like painful.

 

The following weekend, Korra took her impressed classmates off somewhere they could buy her lots to eat and drink, and Asami was, of course, invited along. They had chosen a trendy establishment downtown, with strong hints of restaurant, though it leaned more towards bar. The place was new to Asami, but most of the small group they were in were not - they were people she had at least heard of, if not been acquainted with at college.

 

“Hey!” Exclaimed Ajit at one point (Korra’s  _ second  _ favourite Asian A-named library buddy, Asami thought a little smugly), turning to her as he slammed his glass down. “Asami, I don’t see you buying your share of her prize.” He nodded to Korra’s mounting pile of food, which Asami had no doubt in the world that she could finish.

 

“The girl lives in my house,” Asami said dismissively, but not unkindly, taking some strange satisfaction in the fact that she was buying Korra groceries on the weekly and not just French fries on some random night out. The table roared, being fairly deep into their second round of drinks.

 

From her right Korra squeezed her upper arm, shaking her head, and Asami tried not to look too pleased with herself (or with Korra, for that matter.) The girl to her left gave her an appreciative smile, silent whilst the others howled. It wasn’t someone Asami had seen before tonight, and not someone, if she were to guess, that had seen much of the others before tonight.

 

When the conversation turned to assignments that Asami didn’t have to do, she decided to engage her. “Nia, right?” She offered a welcoming smile.

 

As soon as the girl caught her eye, she brightened, leaning forward and nodding, which made her voluminous hair bounce.

 

Asami's smile widened. “I haven’t seen you around before… You know Korra from class?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, I do, I just -” her eyes, full of expression, did a little circle of the table. Asami got it: not part of the usual study crew. “We worked together on this project last semester, so we got to know each other,” she explained. “You just live with her, or…?”

 

“Oh, no, she’s my best friend,” Asami said too quickly, laughing. “Not just, um... roommates of convenience.” Nia’s head dipped in silent understanding, and when it rose again her dark brown eyes glittered. She was very beautiful, in the quiet, unassuming way that hit harder the longer you looked. The kind with the power of this enchanting slow reveal that Asami, with her striking height and (allegedly) striking face, simply did not possess. Asami put her hand on the table and leaned forward so that she could better hear her. “How’d you find working with her? Korra?”

 

“Ah! Girl’s got a head for sure. Headstrong, I should say,” Nia enthused, glancing across Asami at Korra. “And so bright. Good for her!”

 

“Yeah,” Asami replied, joining her, gaze falling on Korra, who was smiling smugly as Ajit laughed aloud at something she had said. She loved seeing people love Korra.

 

It wasn’t really pride, what Asami felt - at least pride didn’t cover it. Immense joy at her good fortune, as well as immense pride for all the work that her friend put in. It was as though a dream of her own came true every time Korra celebrated a victory; when she witnessed Korra’s elation, Asami found it hard to contain her own. Especially after witnessing so much of her hurt.

 

There was a part of her that was envious, no question. Hard not to be, of somebody so effortlessly captivating. But she didn’t regard that negatively, honestly: if anything, it was simply deeper testament to Korra’s remarkability, a token of the depth of Asami’s own admiration.

 

She turned her attention back to Nia, careful not to be staring. “So, you’re also an IR major?”

 

Nia shook her head after taking a long sip of her beer, clinking her nails on the glass after she put it down. “Straight up public policy. Master’s. You?”

 

“Oh?” Asami’s brow rose, and Nia leaned further in with curiosity. “Me, too! Civil engineering - mostly structural, but I kinda have a toe in environmental - urban, at least. Well, you pretty much have to,” she explained, “if you’re looking to get anywhere good with my firm.”

 

“Ooh, avant-garde, huh?” Nia gave a knowing laugh which instantly leveled her face up again. “But that’s super cool!" She regarded Asami for a minute. "So I guess you know a lot about this city’s infrastructure? More than average?”

 

“Oh, well, I mean -” Asami didn’t want to disappoint her - “yeah. More than average,” she admitted with a laugh. “Why?”

 

“I’m writing a paper - well, it’s more like a book, honestly. It’s on some of the key threads in planning conflicts around downtown in the last couple of decades... “ She had a melodic, slow cadence to her voice. Asami nodded her on, hand on chin. “I just... I really need someone to help me, uh, decode, some of the technical stuff that pops up in the casework - like, I can’t cut it with ten dictionaries -”

 

Asami laughed, the interruption making Nia pause and blink warmly at her.

 

“So,” she continued with a hopeful smile, “I’m thinking you could be my girl?”

 

Asami struggled to say no to most people, so her response to a perfectly manageable proposal from such an affable girl could only be a resounding yes.

 

“Hah, yes!” Nia grinned. Asami saw something of Korra’s delight earlier in her. “Wait,” she said eagerly, albeit a little demurely, “let me buy you a drink - thanks in advance.” She searched Asami’s eyes, her own full of gesture as they were so good at being.

 

“I,” Asami hesitated, as her glance fell on her glass, which had probably been empty for a solid half hour. She looked back at Nia, found the suggestion in her wide gaze again that had made her pause again.

 

“Or,” Nia failed to suppress her bashful smile, “you could just tell me if I’m barking up the wrong tree…?”

 

See where it goes. Maybe Korra was right, and she should let things go where they go. Asami trained another smile on her face, looked into the girl’s pretty eyes. But then she shook her head. “It’s alright. I gotta drive back.” She reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. “But, um, give me your number, and we can sort this paper out.”

 

Just as Nia handed her phone back, a tap on Asami’s arm made her turn to her right.

 

“‘Kay, not that I’m conceding defeat,” Korra began, waving a hand across her veritable feast, “but there’s no dinner at home, so, French fries?” Before Asami could accept, Korra duly popped a French fry into her mouth.

 

“Mmm, you didn’t feed  _ me  _ any of  _ these _ ,” said Luis, the most annoying and annoyingly charming of their newer school friends, looking down at his newly received plate of goujons. He bit his lip and smirked.

 

Asami raised a flustered hand to her mouth, but Korra laughed smoothly. “‘Cause your mouth’s so big my hand would get lost.”

 

Asami shared another look with Nia after giving Korra a fond take.

 

When they headed back out, she was glad to feel the cool night air on her skin. She rolled the window down as she waited for Korra to strap up her seat belt, leaning back against the headrest serenely.

 

“D’you have a good night?” Korra ventured, drawing her from her daze. Her cheek was flat against her own headrest, fully right angled to take Asami in. “You just had that one tiny glass.”

 

“Sure,” Asami said, and Korra laughed and hiccuped cutely. She was an ounce or two past tipsy. “Only because somebody has to get us home.”

 

Korra scrunched her nose. “Yeah, well. You could probably drive better drunk than me on a night’s - on a good night’s sleep.”

 

“Let’s not find out,” Asami laughed, mildly alarmed.

 

Korra followed her with a giggle. “Kidding. Come on. I’ve got a 8am tomorrow.” She considered for a moment. “Actually, everyone back there does. Well, in that case I’m betting that the only one that makes it is Nia.”

 

“Hm. She’s like that, huh?” Asami said. She had gotten that vibe.

 

Korra rubbed her eye and nodded. “Oh, yeah. You talked to her a lot, didn’t you? Pretty girl, right?”

 

“Yeah! She is.” Asami said, eyes on the road.

 

“You guys had your little pretty girl corner there.” Korra gave her arm a prod, before laying an affectionate hand over it.

 

Asami laughed her off, grateful for the dark in the car, since there was no way she hadn’t turned red at that. “She’s prettier,” she said, focusing on the half of Korra's sentence that was not her.

 

Without missing a beat, Korra said, "No way."

 

She kept her palm on Asami’s arm for several minutes more.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

_I'm in a foreign state_  
_My thoughts they slip away_  
_My words are leaving me_  
_They caught an aeroplane_  
_Because I thought of you_  
_Just from the thought of you_

◦

 

Korra had been thinking about that flower boy. Not only because it was the end of the week and she had just thrown the wilting bouquet on the dining table into the compost bin. She placed a lid over the stir fry on the stove and moved it to burner at the back.

 

When Asami told her about his message, she had felt a weird spike of something; and another when she had deduced that Asami had declined his offer. If pushed she might call the feeling apprehension. Tension and release.

 

The gathering steam from the rice on the cooker made Korra cough, and she leant over the worktop to crack the window open. A gust of chill air swept in and she relished in it, the way it cleared her head out a little.

 

With a face like hers (and a heart, and a brain, and - a body...), Asami probably got hit on on the regular. By all manner of people. Korra wondered how many, potentially, in the months of her she had missed. She wondered if any women had been in that number. Wondered what kind of response they might have received.

 

Wondered why she was wondering.

 

She cracked two eggs open on the edge of the marble sideboard and watched them plop out of the shell into the bowl, before pulling a whisk out of the cutlery drawer. The distant creak of the front door opening reached her. The shuffle of heavy fabric and then the light clacking of she knew exactly which pair of boots. The commotion of hands in the noisy cellophane wrap of the florists’, the clunk of heavy glass being set down on the dining table; and then the clacking drew closer.

 

“Oof,” said the voice in the doorway. “What’d those eggs do to you?”

 

Korra half turned to her before looking down - and it was true, she was beating her eggs like she had a vendetta. “Oh… uh,” she said lamely.

 

Asami didn’t appear too concerned. She stepped forward to the fridge to rub something off the whiteboard. “If you have any frustrations to work out,” she continued casually, as Korra watched her fiddle with the magnet on the photo of her mother that she pinned up yesterday, “my shoulders are killing.”

 

That… would probably not help Korra’s present frustrations.

 

“That sucks,” she said with sympathy, deciding to set the eggs aside. “Are you hungry? This’ll just be a minute more.” She gave Asami a warm smile, and not even on purpose. She had only seen her at breakfast today and Korra was never awake enough to remember breakfasts. (Brunch, maybe.) She hadn’t seen much of Asami all week, between their various academic engagements; that onslaught that always seemed to follow the holidays almost spitefully.

 

Asami smiled in return, striding over to peer over Korra’s shoulder as she scrambled the egg into the stir fry. “That smells wonderful.” A little shiny pile of her hair fell over across Korra’s collarbone, tickling; and then Asami inhaled intently and her breath tickled, too. She made a displeased little groan. “You smell like chlorine.”

 

“Yeah, I went swimming after class,” Korra told her, turning the heat up to finish. Asami hated the smell. Korra didn’t know why she would be bothered. Unless she planned to stand this close all night.

 

“You’re gonna burn that.” Asami’s voice caught her out of nowhere; and Korra looked down and twisted the dial back with a start. By the time she had collected herself, Asami had pottered back to the fridge and was selecting them a beverage.

 

When they sat down to dinner, Korra took a moment to admire the brand new flowers, glancing from the vase to Asami for a second in the silent, expectant question that Korra knew she knew how to read. She told Korra they were red carnations, and they needed medium water but lots of light. Korra watched her pull her hair up, thick strands sweeping over her shoulders, and she could almost feel them on her own, like earlier. The flowers matched the crimson of Asami’s peplum shirt and lipstick perfectly; and the harmony seemed to draw the scene into a perfect little bubble around Korra.

 

She gestured to the cute little plant pot next to the vase. “What’s that for?”

 

“Oh,” Asami said. “For Nia. Since I’m gonna see her tonight.”

 

Korra’s bubble didn’t pop, but it sort of quailed and shrivelled and retracted into her stomach, leaving Asami suddenly outside of her. Her brows shot to the sky, and all she could say in her - surprise, if that was the word for it - was, “Tonight?”

 

It came out tighter than she had intended. It must have, because Asami said with some confusion, “It’s not even seven.” She offered a smile. “And it’s Friday! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier - you don’t have to wait up -”

 

“Didn’t you guys meet in the morning?” Korra said quickly, shoving a forkful of rice into her mouth. “She told me in class today the paper you were working on was all done.”

 

“Oh.” The surprise in Asami’s voice told her she hadn’t been thinking of Nia’s paper at all. “No, it’s not about that. I mean, kinda. We figured we should celebrate. She managed to get two tickets for this band that she loves that’s in town tonight. And she will  _ not  _ let me reimburse her, so that’s what the plant is for.”

 

Korra pushed the clawing disappointment in her chest down. It wasn’t like she and Asami had made plans. It occurred to her suddenly that having someone free to hang out at home didn’t automatically equal plans for Asami, and why would it? It was just that -

 

For Korra, it did. Maybe it wouldn’t have if it were anybody else that she lived with. For Korra, doing nothing in particular with Asami had never ceased to make the most alluring of plans.

 

“It’s weird.” Brusquely, she put her fork down. “Not weird,” she corrected herself, trying to soften the action overlate by picking it up again. “Just funny, I guess,” she amended awkwardly, ducking her head into her glass of lemonade.

 

“What?” Asami said sharply. The incision that her voice made was all that Korra needed to understand that, no, she wasn’t fussing for no reason. Korra wasn’t imagining the friction. Or if she was, then Asami was imagining something, too.

 

“I just…” she said, trying in vain to exhale the unwanted feeling out. “Well, you only ever met because of me, and I didn’t even know that you’d... made all these plans.” She tried not to droop.

 

Asami’s face fell immediately - in regret, but not a kind Korra was displeased to see right now, whatever kind of friend that made her. The remorse was evident in the uneasy tilt of her head. “Korra, I just didn’t get a moment today - actually, I figured Nia might tell you. I’m sorry.”

 

_ But  _ you  _ didn’t _ , Korra wanted to say. She pushed her glass away gently, and focused on her plate. She didn’t want Asami to see the dismay on her face; to draw from it whatever astute conclusions she no doubt would.

 

“Are you okay?” Asami said, a strange balance of concern and mild accusation in her voice.

 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just. I had it in my head that we would just wind down tonight. Had a long week, you know.”

 

Asami loosened slightly. “Tomorrow,” she promised, before looking down pensively. “I would really love to hang out tomorrow.”

 

Korra knew she had meant that, down to the imploring tone, because tomorrow was not a day Asami wanted to spend alone. It was the anniversary of her mother’s death. There was a part of Korra that had expected she might solicit her company as early as tonight; perhaps it was that expectation that made the news of Asami’s very Korra-less plans hit worse. Well, she could convince herself it was that.

 

Her instincts weren’t wrong, though, because Asami trudged in at 12.30am looking a lot more sullen than a folk show should have made her. But Korra couldn’t be proud of her instincts when she saw the expression on Asami’s face.

 

“Oh, you’re still up,” Asami said, rubbing a hand over her face when she saw Korra on the couch.

 

Korra patted the side of the laptop placed over her blanketed legs. “Netflix beckoned.”

 

She set the laptop away as she watched Asami take her coat off though. When she met her eyes, she smiled sympathetically. “Was the band that bad?”

 

Asami gave a half-hearted laugh, only really to show Korra’s attempt to leaven her mood some appreciation. She came and sat by her on the sofa and Korra held the blanket out from herself to invite her in.

 

Asami slumped into the couch.

 

“But really, did you have fun?” Korra repeated.

 

“You’d rather I didn’t, wouldn’t you?” Asami replied, no real malice. “I did.” She said after a second. “But I shouldn’t have expected too much. I thought if I had enough fun I could forget about my miserable…  _ pedigree _ , but I’m the kind of girl that wallows, apparently.”

 

“Well, at least you can joke about it,” Korra offered, “that’s a good sign.”

 

Asami fished her phone out of her purse to show Korra a snap of the band. She had changed her lock screen to that wonderful old photo of her mother. “I could tell they’d be really good if I was… into that,” she said, before shaking her head and clicking her phone off. She threw her bag onto the coffee table.

 

Korra waited to gauge if she wanted to talk, but she didn’t have to wait long.

 

Asami pressed half her face into a palm. “I was thinking that this year, it would be a lot easier.” She arched a brow at Korra. “Because I wouldn’t be thinking about how my dad was having the exact same day and we should be together but now... “

 

“Does it feel the same?”

 

She gave a small jerk of the head, voice short. “It feels worse.” And suddenly Asami felt a lot worse - Korra sensed her countenance shift, or the room got colder. She stared blankly through the space in her fingers.

 

Korra laid a hand on her arm, waiting for her attention to motion her closer, and wondering how best to word herself as Asami shuffled nearer. “I know you don’t like talking about it but, um…” Korra folded her own legs away to give her space. “For you, I can be a good listener.”

 

Through her teary eyes, Asami gave her a searching look, though searching did not quite capture the fondness of it. She took her arm and laid her head against Korra’s shoulder, tucking the blanket fully around herself.

 

“Because it feels like… unfinished,” she said belatedly. It took Korra a second to understand she was still attempting to explain her prior point.

 

Like many things, this was now about her father.

 

Korra had nothing to say - nothing to assuage that pain, fixed in something so irreversible. People worried about leaving without a goodbye, lived in fear of the possibility. Asami had a lot more than that stewing. Vast, unsolvable grey areas.

 

She sniffed noisily. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about him -” Finishing high, like she was short of breath; like she wished there was more to the sentiment than that, a clearer conclusion.

 

Well, Korra knew that. But she saw the injury it did to Asami to admit the fact - how difficult it was to have it out in the air. Immediately she gave a shuddering sob. Korra drew her arms around her, wishing she could block out the sound.

 

And immediately she berated herself for it.

 

Because she had to look Asami’s pain in the eye. If Asami was ever to believe that she was more than it; not less for it, not uglier. If Korra was ever going to be half the friend that Asami had been to her. No matter how desperately helpless it made Korra feel to see her in such a state, and no matter how much she wished she could simply love it away. She had no doubt she could muster enough, if that could actually wash her grief away.

 

Asami blinked the tears out of her eyes. “And I wonder if my mom could have told me, you know? How to feel, I mean.” She wiped her face roughly with a couple of fingers. “I just wonder how she would treat me now. How much better she could make me feel. Less lost, less alone. Just… not so confused.”

 

Korra tightened her hold, as if she could contain Asami’s pain like so; place a boundary around it with her arms. She swallowed and exhaled heavily through her nose, mouth pursing. “Do you really feel like that, Asami? You’re... not alone.”

 

She looked like she wanted to say  _ no, of course not  _ \- Korra smiled inwardly. Of course Asami would be worrying after her feelings in a moment which was really indisputably about her own. “I just… it’s different, with family, right? Unconditional.”

 

“What was she like?” Korra said, brushing some of the hair that had come out of Asami’s ponytail out of the way of any future tears.

 

She could tell that the question unbalanced Asami, but before Korra could regret asking, she was embarking on an answer. “Well, I don’t know if a six year old would really know the measure of someone’s character. But she was very good to me. I believed - believe - she would love me no matter what. Unconditionally, like I said. I know that’s not supposed to be a big ask. It’s what your family’s supposed to do, but - well, I don’t know that anyone does, so, um…” Her voice broke. “I guess that belief is still important to me.” Her mouth quivered and more tears ran the track down her face. She pinched the bridge of her nose, voice barely a scratch. “I’m sorry, it’s not usually like this -”

 

“It’s okay,” Korra shushed, stroking with the hand around her shoulders - but  _ she  _ was not okay; and Korra’s own voice hitched on her words of comfort. She couldn’t help it, it was just that -

 

If Asami felt forlorn enough to hold to the (mere) belief of her (long dead) mother’s love as a desperate consolation - that confirmed to Korra a truth that plainly repulsed her: that Asami was not sufficiently loved, did not feel loved, in any case; did no longer, perhaps, feel lovable enough to seek to remedy the fact.

 

_ I'm sure that they both loved you more than anything, _ she wanted to tell her. But she couldn’t be sure; and now, for the first time, the first year, as Asami well knew, it really was unknowable.

 

“Oh, not you, too,” Asami said softly, almost apologetically (if only she would stop that), when she saw Korra’s face. She swiped at Korra’s tears with the back of her hand. Korra shook her head with a small laugh, and Asami buried her own in the curve where Korra’s neck met her shoulder.

 

They were in the light of a single lamp. Korra ran a flat hand from the hunch of Asami’s shoulders down the slope of her back to where the flare of her shirt ended. Then she crossed both arms over her back, pulling her even closer. Eventually she felt her breath ease, and eased her own touch in turn, tracing slow fingers over the ridge of her spine.

 

It was nice to hold her.

 

She felt a little parched, more from Asami’s crying than her own, but she didn’t want to move anytime soon, or maybe ever.

 

Sometimes - sometimes she sensed that Asami held back a little, when she touched her. Nothing conspicuous, and Asami was as liberal with her affections as anyone she knew but… Korra wondered if it was anything on her part, that gave Asami pause, perhaps. She wouldn’t know. She didn’t know, really, what was - not  _ normal _ (she rejected the notion), but… usual. For the relationship they had. She hadn’t had anyone like Asami before Asami.

 

And in any case, Korra had begun to become very conscious. Hyperaware of her touch. That could have been the reason she detected any minor hesitancy at all; but she couldn’t help the question; and she couldn’t help the fact when she sought to touch Asami it was more than sedate friendliness that compelled it. It was definitely more than sedate friendliness that Asami’s own touch provoked. The reaction of her nervous system, too, was quite out of her control.

 

It didn’t seem like Asami had the energy to manage any of that tonight. She had more or less melted into Korra.

 

“Nia like her plant?” Korra asked lightly. She was unwilling to keep Asami at a topic that might exhaust her sensitive mood right now, but eager not to let her crawl too far into her own head to the same result.

 

Asami turned her head slightly for her one word murmur of a reply. “Yeah.”

 

“Not as much as she likes you, I guess,” Korra said absently.

 

She felt Asami retract slightly, and if her face wasn’t already red Korra might have detected a blush. “Oh, c’mon…”

 

“Actually,” Korra continued, undeterred, “I didn’t know if you were gonna come home tonight.”

 

Asami’s mouth made a little ‘o’, and she repeated “ _ Come on _ ,” with real vigour this time.

 

It did sound silly, now that Korra mentioned it, and now that she was here in front of her. Not very Asami-like at all. But without that tether of her presence, in the weird limbo that feeling in the dark had put her in, Korra had… panicked. What did she know, after all? Not that Asami had plans, for one.

 

“You didn’t really think that, did you?”

 

Korra gave a sheepish laugh. “No, I guess not. But you like her, don’t you?”

 

“Of course.” Asami resettled her head.

 

“How much?” Korra said, but she only really meant  _ how _ ? - and the second the words were out of her mouth she found that she didn’t actually want to know the answer. She braced herself, focused on keeping her body loose.

 

Asami laughed, looking down. At least she was laughing. “Why are you asking?”

 

“Well…” Korra tried; because maybe the only thing worse than the second of finding out would be the actual days of never knowing. She eased her breath, wondering why she was making this so difficult for herself when she could be perfectly honest. “Well, I always thought you’d tell me if you liked someone.” The words sounded more hurt, far less nonchalant, than they had in her head. “Do you?” She added tentatively.

 

Asami was unreadable, which ironically gave Korra enough to read, because a moment ago she could not have been more open. Korra sensed that she wanted to draw away on instinct, would have done so if it didn’t seem like an overreaction to the question. Then her face was unsure; as much as it had been when she had been crying.

 

Korra hadn’t meant to be accusatory. She had misjudged how Asami might take to any sort of probing right now.

 

“It’s not like that,” she said quietly, very far away, staring at the door from Korra’s shoulder.

 

Korra did not want to push it, but the adrenaline was speaking for her - she could feel it effervescing into her face and fingers and feet. “That’s not what I asked.” (Tension - )

 

Asami’s voice became a little less subdued, but she still spoke as if she would rather not. “I don’t wanna be with her.” (...And release.) “Would it bother you if I did?”

 

The question froze her, even as Korra’s mind raced. What was she asking? Would it bother Korra if she liked Nia, a girl? If she liked Nia, in particular? No, of course not, and… no, ideally.

 

Ideally. Eventually? (Korra’s stomach seized again, and she wanted to shake the disquiet out of herself.) Well, she would have to make her peace with it - but that… that wasn’t going to make a sensible answer right now.

 

She settled for the truth. “...I just want you be happy.”

 

Asami didn’t decompress. “I think she wanted to kiss me today. She asked me, if I would like to, you know, go a real date. Like date, for real. I didn’t know until she said that that I didn’t. That I shouldn’t make myself.”

 

Korra wisely put the image of anybody kissing Asami out of her mind as soon as it had entered it.  _ Why would you make yourself?   _ She wanted to say, but here Asami was, veering on upset again, the very feeling on her face that Korra had meant to keep at bay.

 

“She’s so mellow,” she told Asami, trying not to sound too relieved. “She won’t take it personally, you know that, and you’ll be fine friends.”

 

Asami nodded into her neck again. She had neglected to meet her eyes for quite a while. After several minutes, she shifted against Korra, lifted her head and sighed deeply.

 

Korra kept her arms in place and studied her for second. “Are you hungry? There’s cheesecake in the fridge that I wanted to try tonight.”

 

Asami didn’t reply. She released more uneven breaths, more like small sighs, before nudging her head back against Korra, as if to retrieve some comfort she had mistakenly surrendered when she lifted her head. She spoke softly after a moment.

 

“Are you upset with me? About earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 

Korra was probably the furthest thing from that right now: she was upset  _ for  _ Asami. She twirled the end of her enviably thick ponytail between her fingers. “No. I just miss you.” A weird thing to say to someone she saw everyday, but it was wholly truthful. They had, after all, spent the whole winter vacation practically joint at the hip; it wasn’t so ridiculous in light of that. Quick hellos and a catchup over dinner (sometimes) quite paled in comparison to the endless hours they had so blissfully wasted together just weeks ago.  

 

Asami lifted her head momentarily to give her a delicious smile. It was clear that she was amused. “We literally live in the same house. What are you gonna do when you, like, go on tour to save the world?”

 

“Come back,” Korra said promptly with a lazy laugh.

 

It seemed to engender more than she had really meant by it and Asami blushed deep. “Well. You could have that down to a fine art by then.”

 

That made Korra giggle. “Oh, you’re saying I didn’t already make the smoothest reentry into your life possible ever?”

 

“Hm, no.” Asami pretended to consider. “But I’m glad you’re here.” She pressed her face back into Korra’s shoulder. Korra could feel the wrinkle in her brow again. “I really am, I promise.”

 

She cupped the back of Asami’s head, letting her own chin fall against her for a moment. “Why do you always say that like I don’t believe you?”

 

Asami raised her head and looked at her for a long moment.“Well, to make sure you do. You keep asking if I read those letters, like they’re going to prove something. Just because I was still disappointed after you came back, doesn’t mean I wanted you to go back or... I would  _ never  _ -”

 

She stopped, voice snuffing abruptly into nothing. She placed a hand over the arm Korra had had around her back, after wrenching it out from between them.

 

“I don’t need those letters to believe you. I know. I know that you’re sorry, that you care, I can feel it.” She screwed her eyes tight, not for the first time. “And you should know that there’s nowhere else I want you.” She cast a brief, rueful glance down, and Korra understood that the gesture was to their current position. Wrapped together on the couch, Asami practically clinging.

 

“I need you,” she finished quietly, but she was looking at the door again.

 

That should have made it feel like a courtesy, but, as always, Korra believed her.

 

And the belief made her soar, somewhere deep under the weight of the night and the blanket and Asami crestfallen, literally fallen, against her.

 

“Thank you for staying up with me,” Asami said some time later, still to the door.

 

Her breath tickled Korra above the neck of her t-shirt, her arms had molded around her like plaster; and still Korra had the urge to pull her closer. She plucked a stray wisp of thread off the seam of Asami’s shirt before rubbing her hand back over her shoulder blades. “I’m only returning the favour.”

 

“I’m tired, I know you must be, too, but I really just don’t wanna go up and…” Asami said, and Korra heard the strain in her voice to explain herself, like she always did; to apologise for her inconvenience, like she always did - so gently she shushed her.

 

Asami looked up through her lashes.

 

“If I fall asleep, you can just poke me,” Korra told her.

 

Asami tucked herself deeper into Korra’s shoulder, and the blanket tighter around them, and the night wore on like that.

 

It was a bit of a paradox, cuddling up with her like this. There was no way Korra could sleep, with Asami’s warm body stuck to her. And there was nowhere more comfortable that she could think of being, than in Asami’s arms.

 

To her credit, she did nothing impulsive for the rest of the night; but Korra did think some extravagant things, concerning home, and family, and unconditional love.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very fillery chillery chap but i hope you enjoy

_I walk you back stage but we stop for hold_  
_And nothing you say could make me feel cold_  
_Your voice is electric and so are your eyes_  
_I'm freezing these minutes to keep them alive_

◦

 

“Asami!  _ Glide _ …” Korra gestured her forward, taking an easy lead on her skates before turning to face her.

 

If only it were that easy. She wasn’t a complete beginner though, and even if it took her a minute to find her disarmingly slippery feet on the asphalt below, Asami could match the majority of the party in their vicinity with relative ease. It was just a matter of balance, as Korra had helpfully explained.

 

“‘Kay, your centre of gravity,” she said, with a light shove against Asami’s chest that (thank heavens) did not topple her, “should not be up here. Bend your knees. Relax.”

 

That was the key. It came back to her fairly quickly - maybe it was the easy breeze, the quiet chill of the waterfront at Brooklyn Bridge Park on a Sunday afternoon; or simply that Korra’s composure and spontaneity were assured and natural enough to calm even Asami all by themselves. Well, she was grateful.

 

There were not a great many people here - it was the dead of winter, after all - and so they moved in wide, sweeping turns, traversing the rink quite quickly for the pace Asami’s mind had set this afternoon, if not her legs. The cold wasn’t biting, but bracing, rather; and Asami relished the air on her face, the glaring winter sun colouring the back of her eyelids gold.

 

They had left Naga at home, for once. (“I’m taking  _ you  _ for a walk,” Korra had told her, on what had felt like Asami’s tenth week wilting indoors, rendered listless by work and the weather.)

 

It may have been the fresh exhilaration speaking, but Asami thought it was an incredible idea. A day out that was as easy as a day in - except maybe moreso, without scraps of paperwork flying about; impatient dog; chill, dry air thanks to the thermostat that wouldn’t settle; and the same messy view for days yelling at her to tidy it up.

 

The view here was serene, beautiful; and there was enough space for her to run around to her heart’s content. But more than that it was clean here. No work, school, stuffy house. No Naga. Just... herself. And Korra.

 

Alone and together and free enough to revel in it.

 

That was one thing it was hard to put out of mind, and not just the reality of it on this fine day - but the idea, for nigh on two weeks; since Korra had told her that she missed her, even though she was right here, how weird. Asami had laughed, because there was only one way to let the enormity of feeling that notion had produced out. And every time she thought of it, something of that feeling returned. Robust, even though she had more or less tried to put that night out of her mind, for multiple reasons.

 

The first being the twinge of pain it drew - the memory of the pain that she had so helplessly succumbed to that night. She had awoken the next morning on a scant few hours’ sleep with what Korra promptly and tiredly termed a Misery Hangover. But she was not as prompt in releasing Asami, though Asami could tell that Korra would much rather have been in bed. Instead she made her a gallon of tea and braided her hair.

 

The second reason was that Asami had... given in, a little bit: lost her grip on the lid she kept on herself, amidst the turmoil of said misery. Said things she might not have otherwise, and unloaded without checking the load. Sunk too deep into that embrace, poured too much of herself into Korra - so much that she simply didn’t want to think on their exchanges that night; lest something come to the fore that compromised her, that she had perhaps subconsciously buried for fear of what she had revealed.

 

Korra had asked a lot of questions. Asami had not answered to the best of her knowledge, and she wished she could say otherwise. Korra had pressed the vice on her heart a little tighter, when she declared her (no longer so stalwart) belief in Asami’s transparency - and really, why shouldn’t she expect that Asami would tell her if she liked someone? It was only in keeping with the bond that Asami herself sought to promise her of with each and any of her own acts of love. She winced at the notion that she could be compromising more than herself -  that she might be compromising their very friendship, with her… inconvenience. That would be worse, because Korra needed her. And she deserved to have what she needed without complications.

 

She was only glad nothing had appeared to scare Korra, or repel Korra. She was grateful.

 

Because there had been some other things, worth remembering, not forgetting, not as if she’d have to make any sort of effort to not forget. Korra asked about her mother (and this time Asami had gone straight to the worst of it); and Korra had cried with her.

 

It wasn’t that it was something that they never did. Neither were particularly resistant to the ploys of any sad movie or song (or onion) - Asami kind of loved that about their wonderfully unmanly, uninhibited household. But.

 

Korra had cried  _ for  _ her. And it had made Asami feel worse and treasured in the same excruciating moment.

 

She moved to edge of the rink, blinking out into the crisp air over the East River and the glimpse of Manhattan across the murky water. It felt as though if she could move even a metre out in this direction she would find herself several degrees colder, but the sensation only revitalised Asami further. She turned back into the rink and Korra caught her eye as if she had been waiting for her attention.

 

“Watch this,” she said, tugging down one side of her deep blue beanie as she zigzagged backwards with a smile. She bent a leg and lifted it, rolling forward on one foot - and then slick, quick, she made a swift turn - practically a flip, still on the same foot, so that she was skating back to Asami. It was effortless, very impressive.

 

Asami laughed, clapping her gloved hands together. “What, you want a prize?”

 

Korra ignored her, still smiling as she reached Asami. “Hey. Gimme those man hands,” she said. Asami was about to protest, but she forced herself not to take the bait. (They hadn’t found any womens’ roller skates left to rent in her size, which, whatever - her feet were only proportionate to her limbs which were only proportionate to her enviable height - but Korra was not about to let it go.) She shook her head, suppressing a laugh, as Korra took both of her hands.

 

She pulled Asami further from the perimeter so they could move together. The last knuckle of her hands, uncovered by her fingerless gloves, were cool to the touch even through the thin wool of Asami’s own gloves, though that wasn’t the only reason her skin prickled at their touch. Their clasped hands made a ring. Asami had nowhere to look but into her eyes as they glided a lazy circle.

 

“Ever played roller hockey?” Korra chirped, waiting hardly a second for Asami’s inevitable head shake before carrying right on. “Well, I have - I was pretty good but -”

 

“Oh, what weren’t you good at?”

 

Korra beamed. “  _ But _ , the team at our school was quad hockey, and I wanted to play inline.”

 

It seemed like that might have been the one team Korra hadn’t been on at some point in her life then. She was a jack of all trades. Asami couldn’t help but muse on her own endeavours.

 

“I just ran by myself before class sometimes, I wasn’t on any school teams. Don’t think honors clubs count.”

 

Korra chuckled, bowing her head as she arched a brow. “Well, you can’t say it hasn’t helped y-  _ woah _ -” She laughed again when Asami’s weight abruptly bore into her hand. Asami had lost her footing for a second, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she regained it, releasing her sudden sharp clutch on Korra’ fingers.

 

“ _ I  _ -” She couldn’t help but laugh at herself as Korra helped to steady at her, though she could practically feel the heat thawing her face. “I did do this robotics competition in eleventh grade - honestly, it was like science fair on crack. But we won! We made this little robot dog - he fetched and sat and wagged his tail if you called, but not much else...”

 

Korra’s eyes softened as if on cue. She inhaled with feeling and pouted. “Where is he and why isn’t he mine?”

 

Asami shrugged. “He got rusty from being in storage at school for so long, so I threw him out.”

 

Korra made an elongated gasp. “You  _ bitch _ ,” she giggled, as she shifted her grip up onto Asami’s forearm, without breaking her gaze, to guide them into a gentle turn. “Next you’re gonna throw  _ our _ dog out.”

 

They only stepped off the rink when Korra’s stomach began to rumble. It was well past noon when they began their walk back into town, each with a freshly made falafel wrap from the food truck (and, of course, Asami Instagrammed hers.) They set a leisurely pace, to savour the food and the company.

 

“You know,” Asami said thoughtfully, carefully tucking the foil around her wrap as she took a bite, “these are a lot spicier than I expected.” The first bite had warmed her an unexpected amount.

 

“Oh,” Korra laughed, “Did you get too used to the campus food? A five year old could manage their stuff. And their pizza! That was literally cold.”

 

“Mm…” Asami was resistant. “Cold pizza’s good. Maybe not the canteen pizza, though.” She huffed.

 

“Almost made me glad I missed those parties,” Korra added, lifting her brow. It had been something of a tradition during their first couple of years, when everyone lived on campus, to take all the leftover cheap pizza in the canteen to whichever apartment happened to be hosting the gathering of the night. But Korra’s training regime had necessitated that she abstain from very late, very alcoholic undertakings sometimes. “But I’m fun enough sober, don’t you think?”

 

“Well, one time,” Asami said, glancing up in memory before grinning at Korra. “You were really mad at me, ‘cause I was smoking.  _ I  _ wasn’t sober, of course.”

 

The look on Korra’s face told her that she remembered and that she still disapproved. “Well… I just knew you wouldn’t have done that with your wits about you.” She began to snicker. “You know what you said, that basically told me you were totally out of it?”

 

Asami’s eyes widened in expectation. She didn’t remember this part.

 

“Well, you told me to stop fussing, right? And you were like,  ‘if you were white you’d be vegan.' ” Korra laughed aloud and Asami clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling her own mortified laughter.

 

“Insult to injury,” Korra teased, taking a bite and shaking her head. “I always remember, ‘cause normally you’re so sweet tipsy. Not that that happens often.”

 

Once their food was gone, the walk leveled up considerably. Korra had told Asami not to take the car today, so that she wouldn’t worry about wandering too far from wherever they’d parked. And so they wandered, weaving around trees and tourists, along avenues and boulevards brightened by the harsh winter sun. Asami had a longer stride, but Korra’s energy was boundless.

 

“ _ That. _ ” Korra pouted wistfully, snatching Asami’s arm to guide her attention to the banner on a shopfront. It displayed a model bedecked in about ten layers of sweater. “Is exactly how warm I wanna be when we get home.”

 

Asami had half a mind to squeeze her to the point herself. She pursed her lips. “I can have a look at that portable heater when we get back,” she offered. “I fixed my neighbour’s before I moved out to this house.”  

 

“Oh, nice! I mean that’s cool, and you are also very nice.”

 

Asami smirked. “He said that was definitely not the girliest thing about me.”

 

“I don’t really get that.” Korra’s mouth curled distastefully. “That question. I mean, what’s the girliest thing about  _ me _ ?”

 

“Your pastel baking stuff,” Asami supplied helpfully.

 

“Hey!” Korra smiled. “You got me most of that.” That was true. It was Korra’s very sizeable twentieth birthday present, and Asami was duly rewarded for her sharp choice with a melange of baked goods.

 

Eventually, they made a very winding way back to the waterfront in Main Street Park, which boasted a breathtaking view of the Brooklyn Bridge. It was nearly sunset.

 

Korra dragged Asami to a park bench and sat across from her. “It’s so beautiful here. If only you could draw it!”

 

Why the hell not? Today was a day for being a little impulsive, apparently. Korra had proposed this outing completely on a whim. Asami tugged her messenger bag around to her front and rummaged inside, pulling out a small ringbound notebook and a pencil. She flipped it open on the wooden table. Korra looked a little taken aback.

 

“I said _ if only _ ,” she laughed, but she propped herself on her elbows to watch.

 

Asami sketched the bridge with practised ease - it was the kind of geometry she looked at day in day out, after all - but she wished she had the materials to better render the brilliant blots of colour in the sky. The scene merited a proper depiction, it was so lovely. Not six square inches in gray. When she rotated the pad to shade the sky, Korra’s gaze shifted to the lettering on the opposite sheet. She couldn’t read the characters so she asked what they said.

 

“Oh,” Asami said, lifting her pencil for a second, “it’s just off the packaging of my very healthy instant miso from the other day. I was bored at lunch.” But below her present drawing she wrote an annotation, and she read it aloud for Korra.

 

“ _ Kirei na nichibotsu _ ,” Korra repeated cutely.

 

“A beautiful sunset.” Asami smiled at her diffident smile. It was so rare for Korra be that way, but she could swear she was seeing it more and more often.

 

Korra maintained her engrossed position whilst Asami continued sketching, refining the angles of the bridge, and placing careful ripples in the river under it.

 

“You never drew me,” Korra mused after a while.

 

Asami glanced up, raising her brow. “You want me to?”

 

“...Yes,” Korra said after a moment, albeit somewhat shyly again, like she was admitting a transgression. “But I’m not gonna sit still for you!”

 

Asami shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.” She turned to a clean page in the notepad. “I hardly have the time to do a realistic impression. All I’m promising you is… more than a stick figure.”

 

Korra grinned. “Do you want me to…?”

 

“Just keep talking.” Asami smiled over the paper.

 

Korra did and Asami half listened.

 

She had to focus on the task at hand. Korra was not easy to draw - there was something about her: a spark, a certain, singular vitality - that needed to come across if she was going to call it an image of Korra at all. But she was also inexplicably satisfying, so pleasant to draw, that it was hard to keep the pencil off the paper. At least for Asami. It was true that it was easiest to draw what drew you, she thought wryly. Maybe it would be a little hard to hand this to Korra, this piece of her own rather private perception, but she couldn’t not make her - well... the way she saw her.

 

Asami did her face and shoulders; the tease of a smile and bright, eager eyes. Just a few flyaways. She tried to make it more than a cursory sketch, but that style quite suited Korra, dynamic as she was, so she was happy to draw quickly. She kind of had to, because soon there would not be enough light to draw by.

 

She wrote her name, too.

 

When she turned it for her to see, Korra blushed very deeply and immediately. “Oh,” she laughed. “Wow… it’s great!” She drew a hand to her chest, suddenly bashful; and lifted her eyes to Asami’s, unable to resist an indulgent smile.

 

“You like it?” Asami was quite enjoying her discomposure. It made her feel more than just amused. Warm. She had done that.

 

“Yeah! You… you drew me so cute,” Korra said at the picture. She stayed quite red as she took her phone out to take a picture of the drawing. Then she let Asami put her things away. It was getting cold, and they decided one last snack stop before heading home would be perfect.

 

Korra skipped alongside her as they made their way out. “I’m thinking… fro yo.”

 

“I thought you were just thinking that it’s cold!” Asami said. But Korra was having a craving, out of nowhere, naturally, and they managed to locate the closest fro yo place with little trouble.

 

The shop was warm, at least. Korra took chocolate sauce and a dash of peanut M&Ms on her froyo. Asami, after some deliberation, chose caramel sauce with raspberries for her toppings. Korra watched her, then exclaimed, “Wait!” just as Asami made to move.

 

She asked for white chocolate sauce, too, and more M&Ms. Asami rolled her eyes but she paid for it anyway.

 

“You had so much more sauce,” Korra explained, and Asami had to laugh.

 

“Everything’s a competition, huh?” She stole an M&M from Korra’s cup.

 

Korra’s phone began to ring just as they sat down. Asami waited and watched (but not too intently) as she took the call. She could tell from the conversation that it was Tenzin; that Korra was at first unhappy with what he was saying and then, eventually, not dissatisfied. She hung up with a not very apologetic, “I gotta go, Asami and I are having frozen yoghurt!”

 

“Important?” Asami said, popping a raspberry into her mouth.

 

Korra frowned. “Well, we have a wedding invitation.”

 

Asami sat up curiously with the spoon between her lips.

 

“Well, they can’t do next next next weekend,” Korra said. Asami could detect the slight disappointment in her voice - Korra loved spending time with her pseudo family. (She had once very kindly, very memorably, slightly drunkenly professed that Tenzin and Pema were her New York parents, and Asami was her New York wife.) But these days Korra’s schedule gave her little reason to see him, and they were both too busy to spare moments that weren’t saved well in advance, and the kids were all at school, and so on.

 

Korra and Asami had had a weekend invitation, and now that too seemed to be gone.

 

“You know Varrick? Think Bolin has a class with him - well, he’s getting married that day and Tenzin can’t really decline the invitation. Longtime colleagues, you know. But apparently he said we’re all invited, if Tenzin wants us to come. And he heard you were with - living with me, he remembers you! That’s why he extended the invite - said you were one of the best students he ever had!”

 

Asami took all this in, and she was glad it wasn’t all bad news. She wrinkled her nose. “The guy taught me one class in sophomore year, and honestly, I think  _ I  _ taught that class.”

 

Korra snorted. “Well, then I guess he has reason to be grateful. It could be fun! Shall I tell Tenzin yes? You’ve got -” She paused in her entreatment to reach over and swipe a finger across a spot above Asami’s collarbone. Asami felt the flesh on her arms tighten under her shirt; shook it away and saw the dot of yoghurt on Korra’s finger as she casually wiped it onto her tissue.

 

Of course Korra had to fix it herself, where simply letting her know might have sufficed. Asami schooled her breathing as Korra continued, “Anyway, better that than thinking about how we’re not having Pema’s food. So, cool?”

 

Asami didn’t see a reason to decline, since their plans had been cancelled anyway.

 

She finished her surprisingly filling froyo, whilst they scrolled through and collated any photos of the day. Eventually Korra chucked her cup to the side and stretched.

 

“So…” She steepled her fingers over the table, leaning her head down against her arm. She looked spent, but definitely happy tired. “Home?”

 

Asami nodded. She was careful not to make her voice (or gaze) too soft, but it was hard, the way Korra was watching her - easy blinks, content smile. “Home.”

 

The electric heater, deceptively simple as it appeared, took a good hour to figure out. But Asami finished the job, under the watchful eye of Naga, whilst Korra showered and made dinner. When she finally got on her phone after flicking the switch on, she felt more than rewarded for her trouble.

 

Korra had made Asami’s portrait of her her new profile picture.

 

She had liked it enough to do that. Her image of her -  _ Asami's _ Korra (the one that had as much of her in it as it did Korra, in some way) - was the version that she wanted out in the world. Which meant there was something admirable, authentic in it; something worth celebrating in the way she saw her.

 

(And in the way she loved her, even, maybe, because it wasn't like those things were extricable.)

 

_ By Asami!! <3<3:D  _ said the very excited caption. It was a pretty good mirror to how she felt.


	10. Chapter 10

 

_Now do you blow it out, come Friday night?_  
_See, if you wanna you, can find me on the hood under the moonlight_  
_Radio! Oh, radio, do you believe there’s still some magic left_  
_Somewhere inside our souls?_  
_Like I waited on your call and made my plans to share my name_  
_And I love the country movement in the way your dress would wave_  
_From your hips on down like electric through the ground_

 ◦

“This will do, right?” Asami said with little conviction, pulling at the waist of the dress so that it would lay flat on the bed. The silky, dark fabric shone. “Seriously, though, blue and brown?” She muttered.

 

Korra promptly reminded her that Tenzin’s (or more likely, Jinora’s) shoddy scan of the wedding invitation said _aqua and copper,_  actually - though she too agreed that such a stringent dress code was a ridiculous thing to burden guests that you presumably wanted in a good mood with. Ridiculous, Asami had affirmed, and utterly in character for Varrick.

 

It didn’t really matter, though. Asami had legs for light years, which meant that for someone so picky about what she wore, she could look good in a lot of things. Most, if not all, things - definitely including this dress. It was a rich, metallic colour, and more coffee than copper; but if there was anyone’s wedding Asami wasn’t about to buy a whole new dress for…

 

Now she was tearing her chest of drawers apart in pursuit of a strapless bra that would accommodate the deep back of the gown. Korra decided to go and put her own dress on. She swept her hair up into a bun, or as much of it as would go, determined that today would be the day it stayed up. It was quite nice to dress up, especially after the rather grimy day out running with Naga she had had yesterday. In a matter of minutes she was crossing the hall again, a pair of shoes hooked on her fingers, wondering if Asami’s search had proved fruitful. When she entered, Asami threw her head over her shoulder, her fingers fixing the hook at the back of her dress, Korra’s question answered.

 

“Am I gonna be cold?” Asami said, sweeping a hand across the sheer organza sleeves of her dress.

 

“Probably,” Korra said truthfully.

 

Asami gave a half-hearted laugh and reached for her hairbrush. “Okay, two minutes!”

 

Korra sat on the bed and waited. It seemed to be pretty much her number one activity whenever she was in Asami’s room. Asami bustled around; and at one point she slid over from where she had leant across the dresser to do her makeup to put a dash of eyeshadow on Korra. At another point she stooped to pull two pairs of heels from under the bed, which made the shimmering skirt of her dress (that only came mid-calf when Asami stood) gather beautifully around her feet. Korra wished she would have stayed that way a minute longer, but she rose with the shoes in hand and turned a demanding look on her.

 

“Think I could dance in these?” She said, holding the fancier pair up, a mess of thin straps curling like vines above the pointy heel.

 

Korra had no idea. _She_ couldn’t for sure. “Um, probably?”

 

Asami took more from her hesitant expression than the reply. “Hm. Yeah,” she laughed. “Well, I don’t wanna push my luck!” She slipped into the lean black pair in her other hand instead.

 

Downstairs, Korra yelled a goodbye out to Naga before slamming the door behind them. It wasn't that they were running late, exactly - but they had to go by Tenzin’s, and that was going to make almost a round trip to the wedding. Tenzin’s sister was in town, making their party one too many for his car, so the plan was that one of the kids would go in Asami’s.

 

The kid in question turned out to be Ikki, much to Ikki’s rapturous delight.

 

“Oh my gooosh, you _guys,"_  she squealed, after tumbling into the backseat. Her big brown eyes darted from Asami to Korra. “You look like - supermodels! Man, Meelo was so _mean_ to me when mom said I couldn’t come with the others, but now I think he’d be jealous!”

 

Korra and Asami exchanged a glance, unsure what exactly had triggered such zeal - and then they smiled, recalling seemingly in unison that this was just how Tenzin’s younger daughter was. (Nothing like Tenzin, in other words.) Korra matched her excitement, complementing Ikki’s sparkly pink eyeshadow, and swiveling around, leaning forward to her level as far as her seat would allow.

 

“Oh, really, do you like it?” Ikki bounced in her seat. “Aunt Kya bought it for me when we went to the mall yesterday, but she told me not to tell mom where I got it. I think she might know, though,” she added contemplatively, with a suspicious frown.

 

A stream of chatter, that might have been annoying if you were used to it, continued to pour out of Ikki for the remainder of the journey. She sighed wistfully as Korra told her about their chaotic attempt to bathe eighty pounds of muddy dog the night before, when Ikki had asked after Naga.

 

“Someone’s always breathing down my neck at home - or they’re just boring. I bet you guys have more fun than Jinora could even _imagine_ ,” she declared emphatically, “I would _love_ to live with my best friend. You're so lucky…”

 

Asami kept her attention on the turn she was making, but when Korra gave a brief glance to her side she saw her mouth curl up silently. She couldn’t suppress her own smirk, and she wondered whether to be earnest or sarcastic in her reply, before deciding that the former would certainly suit Ikki better.

 

“I know,” Korra said, tucking her chin over her hand where she had laid it beside the headrest. “Well, you’d be lucky to find someone like Asami.”

 

This time she couldn’t make herself turn for Asami’s reaction, though. Her spine had frozen in place, and even Ikki’s sunburst smile didn’t melt it.

 

The wedding, as it turned out, was pleasantly understated by Varrick standards. The ceremony hall was lit low and lovely; warm lights in every direction, and a scattering of little spring buds along the aisle that bisected rows of dinky wooden chairs, a sash of pale blue tied around the back of each. It was a perfect (and presumably deliberate) match to the atmosphere outside, where the cosiness of winter was colliding with the first fresh green. It wasn’t hard to guess that this modest, pretty scheme was in no small part the bride’s doing. Zhu Li Moon was a quiet, diminutive woman - “Varrick’s research assistant, though really I’d say it was the other way ‘round,” Asami informed Korra snidely - whose mousy countenance masked real resolve. There was an air of austerity about her, even, but it melted away when she met her groom at the altar; and then even Asami had to smile.

 

“Don’t you think he cleans up well?” Korra whispered, hooking a foot around the thin leg of Asami’s chair. Asami glared at her, not merely in distaste, but unhappy to be interrupted in a moment that she wouldn’t have been happy to admit she found affecting. Jinora glared between them, alert at the slightest murmur, though almost as soon as her head had turned it eased a little.

 

Asami took Korra’s arm, her fingers sudden and cool in the crease of her elbow. Korra leaned her head in, and Asami said briefly, a rush and rustle of warmth in her ear, “ _No_. But I’m glad we came.” They shared a gentle smile.

 

Then the officiant was speaking again. Korra swallowed as Asami’s hand fell away. Bolin’s audible sniff finally drew Jinora’s attention to her other side.

 

A luscious lunch was to follow the ceremony, once they had all been chaperoned several floors up to the roof. Most of the party had streamed out of the hall and queued for the venue’s two massive elevators, but Korra and Asami seeked out the stairs, racing up (and inevitably outrunning) all the hyperactive children who had opted for the same route. And when she had (inevitably) outrun Asami, Korra emerged to the view of a vast, beautifully prepared rooftop. A long, elegant buffet had been laid out under the eaves of tall young trees planted in pots like narrow bathtubs. It was an impressive prize. She caught her breath and located Tenzin, who waved her over to the middle section of a lengthy table that ran the width of the rooftop.

 

Korra waited for Asami to stagger over, flushed, before sitting. Asami shook her head, the flush deepening when she found that the smiling eyes of Tenzin’s whole party awaited her.

 

“That’s what you get for racing me,” Korra grinned, pulling a chair out so she could sit.

 

“ _Friendly_ ” Asami insisted, hands on her knees for a moment before she tucked her seat into the table, “a friendly race.”

 

“This is friendly,” Korra said sweetly, smoothing out the bunch in Asami’s sleeve, which had formed from having her arm raised to keep a grasp on the stairwell railing through so many flights.

 

A fruity laugh sounded across from them, and Korra turned to the kind smile of Tenzin and his sister beside him. He opened his mouth, but she stuck a hand into the air above Meelo’s towering pile of croquettes before he could say a word. “Hi, I’m Kya!”

 

“Hi,” Korra smiled, taking the hand. Kya looked - more fun - than in pictures. “Korra.”

 

“Asami,” said Asami, inclining her head politely. And then (sore loser though she wasn’t), determined not to be outperformed on all accounts in her first impression: “She lives in my house.”

 

Korra rolled her eyes but Kya’s distinctive laugh rang again. “Pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you, Korra, from everyone in this camp,” she said, tilting her head to Tenzin whilst ruffling Meelo’s hair on her other side. “But I didn’t think I’d meet you at Varrick’s wedding of all places.”

 

“You know Varrick?” Asami said curiously, stopping in her seat where she had been about to go scrutinise the buffet.

 

“I wish I didn’t,” Kya said flatly. But she gave Asami a knowing glance, and soon enough they were the best of friends.

 

Once Korra had eaten to satiate her hunger (and no more, _yet_ , because she had to dance - she’d pay a proper visit to the dessert table later), she asked Tenzin to join her on the floor. She found it necessary to give Asami notice that she was going - didn’t realise how undue it was, to her mild embarrassment, until it was apparent she’d broken the flow of her conversation Kya; and that Asami had perhaps expected a greater reason for the disturbance than that Korra was just going to leave her side for a bit, if that’s okay. (Of course it was, and maybe they had come together, but... not _that_ together.)

 

Korra left the thought and the table, letting the brisk pace Tenzin set distract her. If a dance was the only way they could get some real one on one time amid these throngs of people, then it would have to do.

 

He asked about the finer details of her schoolwork, health, internship - but what appeared to interest him most was her personal, emotional assessment of the state of each of these things. Korra was very taken with his concern. Tenzin was soft inside, and she liked when it showed, because it meant his self-imposed severity wasn’t getting the better of him.

 

“But about training - well, I wanted to tell you,” she said after a while, as he led her with a stiff stance (Korra had half a mind to lead _him_ ), “I’m thinking about a proper regime again soon…”

 

Tenzin was making a face that said he’d be stroking his chin if he could. Korra didn’t think her statement merited that much contemplation.

 

“Not a _regime_ regime. I still need a trainer… And I kinda need to graduate first. I just… wanna keep that door open. And for that I have to keep a good level, stay in the game, you know? But I know school takes priority, and the focus this summer’s my internship -”

 

“Korra,” he said finally, making a gentle command of her name, " _you_ take priority.” He sighed out an oddly emotional smile. It was a strange look on him, but not unwelcome. “Just don’t overload, alright? Take care of yourself. And I imagine Asami will, too?”

 

“Oh. She takes care of me,” Korra said happily, and though they were her own, the very words in the air buoyed her.   

 

Tenzin inclined his head. “Well, I trust your judgement, on all fronts." He cracked another smile. "Not something I’ve always been able to say.”

 

It was a bit backhanded, but Korra took more pride than she’d have expected in the compliment, in the notion. And Tenzin could read her gratitude without her saying a word.

 

When the song ended, she extracted Rohan from Pema’s arms so that Pema could dance with her husband. He sat comfortably in her lap, in a chair at the corner of the table, with Korra’s arms around him making a little ledge that he could lean happily over. From this vantage point he explored the party with large, curious eyes. Korra kissed his stupidly kissable cheek and followed his lead, but very soon her eye fell to one corner and remained there.

 

Asami was chattering away to Bolin, after a rollicking romp of a dance. Korra could tell because her chest rose and fell fast, and some her hair had been thrown across her neck, evidently from a violent, swishing turn. She leaned into something he had said and laughed, before taking her leave with a friendly double pat on his shoulder. Korra watched.

 

In the afterglow of the dance, like in the afterglow of that race, or a skate, or even a close run for the subway, Asami emanated warmth and innocuous energy in a way that made Korra’s feet itch - to join her, touch her. Partake. She knew she wanted her next dance to be with her. Still indulging a private smile, Asami fixed her hair, scraping it back into an even mass against her neck. She had secured it to the side today with a brassy pin that matched her dress, such that it tumbled in a neat wave over one shoulder. Her hair was very long now; Korra had trimmed it for her only an inch or so over Christmas. It looked breathtaking.

 

Korra wished she didn’t mean that literally, but it was a little hard to look at Asami today. If she were being honest.

 

Asami skipped over to the bar and leaned her elbows over it. Immediately the image of her on that first day back glimmered into focus in Korra’s mind’s eye, at the counter of that cafe on campus. The first time Korra had stared, since she wasn’t looking, and felt the relief of reunion settle her bones and rattle her heart - the first time after a long time, and it hadn’t felt like any other time before. One of those moments that just stuck - and so the memory didn't surprise her, but the way it struck now did.

 

Asami felt cosmically closer than that day.

 

Rohan fidgeted in her lap, and Korra noticed that Jinora had appeared in the seat next to them. She set her phone before her on the table and smiled.

 

“Hey!” Korra smiled absently. “You look... nice.”

 

“Damned by faint praise,” Jinora muttered. She didn’t mean it, since Korra hadn’t meantit like _that_ \- she had quite obviously seen that Korra's head was somewhere else and decided to take advantage. Jinora was a little too old now for ‘precocious’ to be the right fit, but she was the same as ever, if not sharper. Which, all too often, only meant more irksome. 

 

Korra laughed and rolled her eyes. Jinora was about to speak again when her phone buzzed, and she quickly tapped a text before redirecting her attention to Korra. Korra, finally grounded, noticed that she was slumping a little; chin perched on a knobbly forearm, nails clinking on the screen.

 

She smirked at the phone. “Boyfriend?”

 

Jinora blushed and nodded. Then she was glum again. “We were gonna hang out today, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to bail on this. On Dad…” She widened her eyes with a knowing stare.

 

“Right,” Korra grinned. “Hey, pass me one of those…”

 

Jinora handed her a lavishly frosted chocolate cupcake, caramel cream with blue sprinkles. She broke a chunk off for Rohan before taking a healthy bite of the rest.

 

“ _You_ do look nice, by the way,” Jinora said eventually. “Nice shoes.”

 

“Oh,” Korra smiled, glancing down at her brown peep toes. She had thought they went perfectly with her pale blue dress - and most importantly, they were low enough that she could move effortlessly in them. “Yeah! Asami loves them,” she said.

 

Jinora sniggered. “Do you guys always do that?”

 

“What?”

 

“She told me you liked her dress when I said I liked it.”

 

“Oh. Well, that’s ‘cause _she_ doesn’t particularly like it,” Korra explained after a moment.

 

Jinora didn’t say anything to that, although Korra could see her biting away a smile. “You know, I don’t think I should be telling you this ‘cause they’re supposed to be fake mad you didn’t come and stay with us, or whatever - but Mom and Dad are really glad you've got someone so good to look after you.”

 

Why did that keep coming up?

 

“Mm, Asami’s responsible,” Korra commented curtly, like she was merely offering another outside opinion. Jinora kept looking at her like she had more to say - and in a way she felt like she did, but she didn’t know what, and she didn't like that. So Korra handed Rohan off to her at the sound of the next song, depositing him on her empty chair. It was one of Asami’s favourites, and she was going to get her dance.

 

She had to wonder if Asami had been waiting for her - she was not only ready when she found her, but looking straight at her. Korra pulled her towards the middle of the floor, since she didn’t want to go too fast; and Asami led her through a sway that was no more difficult than walking, thankfully, because Korra's centre of gravity was bouncing all over the place.

 

It was pleasant enough for a few minutes, but she could feel the latent energy in Asami’s fingertips. And wherever it had come from, whatever had induced it (Korra tried not to wonder too hard), it seemed like it should have somewhere to go, since this was hardly dancing.

 

“Asami,” she said. The name wasn't needed to catch her attention, since Asami had nowhere to look, really, but her face. “Do you know how to two-step? Nightclub two-step?”

 

“No,” Asami whispered. Korra was close enough to hear, obviously, but… she didn’t see why she had to whisper. Though she supposed that at her relative height, Asami was more or less speaking in her ear. “Are you gonna show me?”

 

Korra smiled. “It’s not hard, actually. My mom taught me how to do this ‘cause - well, it’s kind of like a level up from just swaying, but it still looks like a ballroom dance. Easy and pretty. Put your hand -”

 

She guided Asami into the correct position; and said, “Alright, now _loosen_ ,’ for herself more than anything. Asami complied and waited.

 

“So you - are gonna step back with your left foot. And me forward with my right.” They walked through the first step, Korra watching Asami watching their feet. “And just touch down, kind of,” she continued gently, demonstrating the movement without shifting her gaze, “with the other foot…” Asami followed, then turned her head up with a proud little twinkle. It struck Korra as rather dear.

 

“Perfect! Now sway a little,” she laughed, leaning in and tightening her grip. He gaze flickered back up to Asami's face. “Rinse, repeat…You are such a _limber_ lead... I swear, my arms were cramping just being _against_ Tenzin earlier...”

 

Asami was a natural. It didn’t take them long to set a lovely rhythm, and even when the music switched they continued. Korra showed Asami how to twirl her, and felt her heart flutter when she did. It was going swimmingly, until several strands of Korra’s hair slipped free into her face, making her splutter.

 

She released a short exhale of mild disappointment. “I was so sure it was gonna stay up today.” Korra shook her head a little to get it out of her eyes, to no avail. “Hey, let me fix this?” She found Asami’s gaze with a questioning smile.

 

Asami’s head jerked a playful, barely perceptible _no,_ no sign of stopping. She said in a conversely earnest tone, “I think you look very pretty.”

 

Korra managed to blow her hair out of her face in time to flash Asami a smile much sturdier than her insides at present, though the hair promptly fell back into her eyes again. Before she could shrug her resignation, Asami was lifting the hand she had on Korra’s shoulder. And, hardly blinking from her gaze as she did, she tucked the hair away behind Korra’s ear.

 

Korra missed her step.

 

"Shit,” she breathed, eyes falling to her stumbling feet instantly; and her own flustered laugh rang in her ears, but she couldn’t for the life of her realign their stance. Could hardly discern it for the rushing beat in her chest.

 

“Oh, sorry…!” Asami laughed, a little awkwardly. She looked more harried than Korra would have expected, though even that was a good look on her. Their eyes met with a stricken gaze -  the air bloated - then Korra was laughing, too; and between that and the rush of blood it took hardly a second for her cheeks to begin hurting.

 

“Alright, so we’re not ready for, um, minor deviations…” Asami continued, straightening herself, holding her hands back up for Korra.

 

Korra let out a final giggle, lips pursing. “Mm.” Asami’s hand was very warm on her waist (a positioning two step did not actually warrant.) For some reason her skin was shivering under it. They continued, with no more flagrant errors, but that was just lucky, because Korra could not stop... tingling. She put her face in Asami's shoulder, since there was no way she _wouldn't_ fuck up if she had to keep looking her in the face. It still required more effort than she had anticipated when the thought to teach Asami had initially struck her. The shoulder was soft, and smelled very nice.

 

When the dance was over, Korra really did begin to shiver. The verge of spring was still about as tolerable as the dead of winter, when she was in a sleeveless dress and it was nearing twilight. By this point the dessert table had been waiting a while for her, so together they wandered over to it. Much to their delight, next to the wedding cake and the butterscotch creme brulee crackling under tiny artisan stoves, there were two large copper coffee vats of hot chocolate.

 

“Okay, this is a great wedding,” Asami said, pouring two steaming steel mugs of it. Korra placed two slices of cake and a creeme brulee onto a napkin. After a brief detour to the bar to slip a splash of amaretto into the hot chocolate, they took their little feast to an unoccupied stretch of parapet before the slowly darkening skyline. They drank and watched the lights twinkle on one by one.

 

“So Tenzin’s sister went to school with Varrick,” Asami said, once she had finished her cake.

 

“Really?” Korra swallowed a mouthful. “I’d have pegged him a lot younger.”

 

“Child genius,” Asami said with a smile and a shrug.

 

Korra sidled closer, dragging the cup on the parapet along with her. “So this is a _great_ wedding, huh? You said you’re glad we came.”

 

“I like weddings,” Asami said enigmatically. Or maybe it really was that simple.

 

“Would you be into… you know, getting married?” Korra said curiously. What a bizarre way to phrase that question.

 

Asami snickered at it, rightfully. “I don’t know. You?”

 

Korra considered. “I don’t think I really care.”

 

“The thing is,” Asami continued, and Korra realised she hadn’t finished answering. “They’re family affairs, you know? It’s funny, my dad used to talk about it more than I ever did. He said he couldn’t wait, but that he’d probably _have_ to wait a very long time for me to find a guy who didn’t mind being less smart and less successful than his wife,” she chuckled.

 

Korra blinked. “He probably wasn’t wrong.” She watched Asami’s nose twitch sceptically and joined her wistful laughter. “Tell me…” she said, once it had abated, “about your dream wedding.”

 

“Oh, Korra, how old are we?”

 

“What does that have to do with it? I know you'd die to plan one.”

 

Neither the meticulous organiser in Asami, nor the aesthetics aficionado, could deny that. “Okay, fine.” She clapped her hand on the railing. “Spring, or maybe autumn, I think. But outdoors, for sure." She looked up in consideration. "Deep red… no, pale colours for fresh beginnings, right? White or lilac or something. Red _accent._ ” Then she crooked a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “No cake - smaller treats, and lots of them. Long dress. Western shape, eastern detail…Tons of flowers - blossoms! And Ikki’s gonna be my flower girl, unless Tenzin manages to have a crazier kid.”

 

Korra laughed at her super efficient delineation. “You’re... very good at this! Am I gonna be your maid of honour?”  

 

Asami smiled softly for a long moment. “If that’s what you want.”

 

The wedding celebration was undoubtedly going to continue into the early hours, but Tenzin’s family left not long after sunset, since that was not long before Rohan’s bedtime. Korra and Asami had to take Ikki again. Paradoxically, she was much calmer on five slices of cake - perhaps the additional weight helped keep her on earth. They spent the rest of a lively evening at Tenzin’s house, regaled by Kya with tales of her fascinating nomadic life, and utterly spoiled by an impromptu late dinner. It was nearly 2am by the time they returned home.

 

Asami stopped Korra just as she made to trudge up the stairs. “Hey, wait a sec,” she yawned. She had perched on the sofa to slip her heels off. “Get this for me, please,” she said, patting her dress at the back. “It took me way too long to fix it myself earlier.”

 

Korra leaned a little awkwardly over the whole sofa to fulfil her request - she was loath to walk around the whole thing to the other side of the living room again. It took her moment to undo the fiddly little hooks. She realised she'd have to actually sit up properly to do it.

 

It wasn’t until Asami gave Korra's hand a brief pat that she realised it hadn’t left her skin. “Thanks. ‘Night, okay?”

 

Korra gave the back of her another long look. “Goodnight.” She went upstairs and fell into bed no sooner than she'd torn her dress off, and slept too deep to dream for several hours.

 

Asami asked her to unhook her dress again, on the edge of the sofa again.

 

Korra did so. The tiny golden hooks clinked apart to leave the dress parting from the middle of her back; and for some reason Korra left her hands in place, there where the fabric had fallen away like two petals curling out. In something of a daze, her chin fell into Asami’s shoulder from behind, and Asami reached for her fingers, drawing a hand around her torso with each of her own.

 

Her skin was warm and her breath steady.

 

Korra’s chin had nudged the fabric further, baring the shoulder on which she rested. Asami was barer than usual here, with her hair pinned aside so pretty. Korra’s eyes fluttered close, and as if in protest Asami turned and demanded her gaze. But softly. With her movement the loosened dress had slipped to her waist, leaving her in nothing but her laboriously acquired strapless bra.

 

Nothing Korra hadn’t seen before. Neck down, that was.

 

Because Asami’s eyes _blazed_.

 

She had never seen that look in her eyes before. Korra had a seen a lot of affection in her eyes - all that she needed, more than she deserved, sometimes - but she had never seen _that_. That... devotion.

 

And not a noble kind.

 

She swallowed and tightened her grip - the grip Asami had deliberately fixed in place, her hands still over Korra’s, holding their warm skin together fast. Asami smelled sweet as always; but not light and floral like usual, not floating. The aroma of the wedding banquet clung to her, butterscotch and warm vanilla on her breath - delicious - and she was so very grounded against her. Heavy in her arms with expectation. Earthly need. Earthy gaze. She placed a hand against Korra’s collarbone.

 

Korra dipped further into her to inhale, blindly, and Asami sighed very conspicuously (maybe sigh wasn’t even the right word for that sound) - taking the invitation to proceed, _making_ an invitation of Korra’s impulsive touch.

 

She kissed Korra’s neck, above where she had laid her fingers.

 

Korra’s breath hitched, hands roamed and - and gosh, this was… unexpected, to say the least, both Asami and her own fervent reciprocation, but -

 

It wasn't like she could help the high that wound tighter and tighter in her; Asami’s mouth on her tender skin; the invisible pressure that packed her body mounting like a seam willed to split, and she couldn’t help herself. She held Asami hard enough to feel the bumps of her ribcage, and then she moved her hand up, and this time Asami really didn't, didn't  _sigh_... Korra was delirious. Maybe she was drunk? But Asami was here anchoring her - with her hands and - and her mouth- So she held on for life, let her imbibe her. Her heart pounded harder, somewhere in the region of her skull, somehow, and that was only until it replaced her head altogether - all the better, because this was _weird_ (and breathtaking). They tumbled back into the couch and she lost Asami's kiss (and _still_ this incessant buzz was all she could feel) - but she _knew_ , knew that she would regain it on her mouth -

 

All she could feel.

 

The buzz was all she could feel. All she could hear. She breathed hard as the sound pulled her mind ashore, and caught herself. She touched her skin to feel a thin layer of sweat and shifted her heavy legs. Exhaling through her mouth, she swiped her neck where Asami had kissed it.

 

Her phone  continued to blare her a siren. How appropriate? She snatched it with a wobbly arm and shut the alarm off. She sighed, clung onto her own neck again.

 

In her face she felt the heat of the dream subsumed by that of… some agitation, if not outright discomfort. It was hard to tell right now, disoriented by sleep, but she tried to untangle her mind.

 

Korra readjusted onto her side and shifted the sheets over herself, her body feeling particular and alert against them. She tried to school her breath but her heart beat away, right below the damp sheen at the dip of her chest. Okay. She closed her eyes.

 

So Asami had foreplayed her up into this in her head, definitely in her head. Which made this not Asami’s doing at all, but Korra’s own.

 

Huh.

 

Asami - well, ‘Asami’ - she was intense. Not just (and Korra’s stomach and other parts clenched at the fresh memory) - not just ravish-me intense, but demanding, unabashed, nearly _frustrated_. Asking much more of her than she was wont to, wanting more. Was there something of that in her Asami: more desperate than she let on? Was there something of that want in her Asami?

 

That covetous gaze swam back behind Korra’s eyes, making them fly open again. _Fuck, probably not._

 

But she had felt so real. To the touch. Korra _had_ helped her take that dress off. She swallowed her unease.

 

Korra shuffled again, curling into the blanket in some instinctive sort of defence, in spite of the warmth in her bed that was approaching clammy. She screwed her eyes together, sleepy state swirling together the strange urgency and persistent heat, uncomfortable because it was all too comfortable, into something that did not get less confusing by the second. She slowly fingered the ridges of her ribs below her chest, exactly where she had touched Asami. _'Asami'_ , she reminded herself - her head hurt.

 

She pressed her feet over one another, contemplatively almost. The heat continued to radiate from her face. And other parts. The heat was winning.

 

No. _No ._ She was _not_ going to lie here and rub one out to the thought of her best friend.

 

No way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤ check out [THIS](http://guileheroine.tumblr.com/post/158160189983/the-inimitable-willoghby-drew-this-beautiful-bday) beautiful illustration of the parapet scene in this chapter by [willoghby](https://willoghby.tumblr.com/)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not an eventful chapter, but consider it the deep breath before the plunge  
> also, if you like (+ haven't already done so) check out [Make It Up As We Go Along](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9770186/chapters/21957431) for bits and pieces related to this story!

_Even when you're next to me_  
_It's not the way I'm picturing_  
_I'm just feeling low, feeling low_  
_You wanna be friends forever_  
_I can think of something better,_  
_I'm just feeling low, feeling low_

◦

 

Between the hours of 8 and 11am on the weekend Asami tended to have the house all to herself. She awoke. She made coffee if it was going to be a busy day, tea if it wasn’t. If it was warm enough she sat at the open doors to the small, paved garden; if it wasn’t she curled on the sofa. At some point Naga would rise and pad over, and she dressed if Naga wanted to drag her out; stayed in a robe and slippers if she was content to simply sit with Asami wherever she had chosen to settle. She read her emails, the news, a real book. If she felt hungry, she cooked. Creative, she drew; stiff, she took a nice bath. And if she was feeling _really_ ambitious, she attempted some yoga.

 

Made another cup of whatever. And sometime between the arrival of the mail and noon, Korra would amble downstairs (with a sleepy smile if _she_ was well rested, and an equally endearing pout if she wasn’t.)

 

Today was not such a day. Asami was only half awake at 8.30am, and she stumbled to the fridge, where a barely sticking sticky note stopped her short in her hunt for something to stave off her panging hunger. She pressed the square of paper down with two fingers and tried to make her bleary eyes focus.

 

Before she could make sense of the note it was redundant. The front door clicked open and in a matter of seconds Korra appeared outside the kitchen.

 

“Hey! Did you just get up?” She placed a hand on the frame of the doorway and peeked in.  Asami took in the warm flush over her skin, the sweatshirt tied around the waist of her yoga pants. Korra had their mail in her other hand.

 

Asami tore the note off the fridge and read _Out for a run! -K_ before scrunching it up and dropping it in the trash. “Yeah. How come you’re…conscious?”

 

Korra barked a laugh as deposited the mail on the table; and from any other mouth the sound might have been harsh to Asami’s ears at this moment. But finding Korra at this hour was like seeing somebody timetravel, and the very sight sharpened her senses in seconds.

 

Korra pulled out a chair in one exuberant movement, then kicked it back and perched onto the counter in another. “Oh, I just woke up randomly. And the sun’s out for once - I thought it’d be perfect to go outside.” She looked at Asami with wide eyes.

 

Asami wished she looked less like a corpse.

 

She turned back to the fridge. An explanation of her own state felt due, and it made quite the contrast to Korra’s. “I got in so late last night. I just went straight to bed, and now I’m starving.”

 

Korra shook her head disapprovingly. “You’re done, though?” She said curiously.

 

Asami nodded. The first draft of her complete thesis project was (ninety-nine per cent) done, helped along greatly by the fact that she had to have enough of it together to present at the summit her supervisor had very enthusiastically, very suddenly nominated her for. She’d have expected Korra to be more reproachful at the admission that she’d skipped a meal, but Korra only answered, “Okay. I’m glad.”

 

Asami turned to catch her smile. Korra’s hand rose vaguely, taut, like she was briefly considering accompanying the acknowledgment with a pat on the back or something. Asami was too far out of her reach.

 

She smirked, slowly (and Asami wondered if she had forgotten to take her makeup off last night, if her bedhead was _that_ bad - s _top looking at me_ , she wanted to say.)

 

“Would you like some pancakes for your effort?” Korra offered at last. Too earnestly for Asami to ever decline, even if she hadn’t been going mad with hunger. Pancakes. Her brain swirled at the thought.

 

She let her eyes fall close in automatic relief, nodding slightly; and filtering her words seemed quite unimportant when she was this preoccupied with primal needs. “I love you…”

 

Korra laughed abruptly like she’d made an irresistible joke.

 

“Uh. Um, okay, pancakes.” She hopped off the table. Her face was turned away from Asami’s as she reached for the cupboard with the flour.  

 

Asami pulled out what little of her hair was still in yesterday’s braid and began to comb it through with her fingers. It caught in many places, making her wince, but it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant sensation since each time she emerged more awake. Outside the birds chirped and Korra chirped along.

 

“Eggs, eggs…It’s getting so much warmer out. I’m gonna do these early runs more often!”

 

Asami gave her a look that said _sure you will_. (She probably would though. Korra had no trouble just doing things.)

 

“I will. And you should come. Promise to let you keep pace,” she smirked, as she wiped a bit of egg off her hand onto a dish towel, though it was all softness.

 

“ _Let_ me?” Asami laughed. But she had nothing to follow it, since Korra was right.

 

“Milk,” Korra said. Asami leaned over to fetch it out of the fridge and set it on the counter for her  collect. She rubbed her eye and yawned before turning her gaze back onto Korra.

 

“Naga should come, too. She still asleep? Hey, where’s the whisk?” Korra worried a thumb against her lip for a moment, then took a wooden spoon from the drawer she had pulled out instead. “I picked up a couple of those apple turnovers you like, by the way. Fresh out of the oven! Everything’s so fresh when it’s this early -”

 

She peered into the bowl to assess its contents, and the spoon slipped out of her hand, clacking onto the floor. “Oops,” she whispered, directing a smile both sheepish and mischievous behind her as she bent to pick it up. A few little flyaways slipped out of her cute little bun. “Anyway - what else? Halibut - that’s in season apparently. And grapefruit, he said that’s coming in…” She swept a strand of hair out of her face with the heel of her hand, leaving a dusty smudge of flour on her cheek.

 

Asami did not imagine she could love anyone more. She knew for a fact that she hadn’t.

 

“Where did you _go?_ ” She laughed.

 

“The farmer’s market. Greenpoint, remember? Grandma Yin recommended it specially. It’s Saturdays only, too.” Korra lifted the bowl into the crook of one arm as she beat the batter and turned to face her fully. “Oh, Asami, you look like death. But I got you, I got you.”

 

She chuckled and arched a brow, watched Asami just long enough to raise her heartbeat before continuing. “Come and make some tea?”

 

Anyone would think she did that on purpose. But no, the charm of Korra’s unconscious charm was exactly that. It was unconscious - it was all in Asami’s head, in plainer, harsher terms; even when it felt like she was... baiting her.

 

Because Korra did love her. Sometimes she wondered if it might be easier if she didn’t, if she engaged in none of these favours and kindnesses and sweetnesses that got themselves muddled and mangled in Asami’s poor head. She tended to pride herself on how she read people, but with Korra, sometimes, that instinct seized up at the instant, as though she couldn’t quite dare - felt like she was encroaching, like she should leave her lovely, oblivious, guileless self alone.

 

It wasn’t Korra’s fault that Asami’s heart cleaved to every gesture thrown her way like a lifebuoy. Not her fault that she couldn’t help but feel her this way, though it might certainly have been easier to blame her, if Asami could ever find a reason.

 

Korra was so careful with her. Gentle always, more and more. If she didn’t know better than not to try her luck, she might have done just that. But the stakes were high. She knew it every time she recalled that sick season without her, and being without her, with nothing of her, in a time where nothing was all that she was left with - it was horrible, truly. Like being stuck at the bottom of a gorge with no lifeline. It was such a long descent from here to there, and she never wanted to make that fall again, let alone survive it. Korra had promised never to push her; it would only be idiotic now to jump herself. It’s not like anyone else was going to teach her to dance or make her pancakes or fucking _cry_ with her.

 

Korra would tell her there were no stakes on their friendship - that it was unbreakable, indispensable, irreplaceable no matter what. Asami knew better than to gamble things that were already priceless.

 

Such was all this.

 

“Asami?” There was tentative concern in Korra’s voice.

 

“On it,” Asami said immediately.

 

When she passed her, Korra finally laid a hand on her back, thumb briefly grazing the width of her shoulder blade. “You’re really out of whack, aren’t you?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Korra frowned. She gave Asami’s arm a stroke. It could have been briefer.

 

Asami put the water on. Korra paused her pancaking to retrieve a small bag of fresh ginger from the fridge and passed it to her. “Here, this should invigorate you.”

 

The gathering steam from the water warmed Asami’s hand where she had suspended it above the pot. She blinked a few times and yawned again, before opening the cupboard by her head. It took another moment to find her bearings. All right. She took a tin of loose black tea and two cups out. Then she found a knife and faced the ginger root.

 

The cups were the pair that they had received for Christmas, and Korra smiled when she saw them.  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Mom said she might need to come down for work for a couple days. To New York, I mean. She said she’ll call and confirm. Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Probably get a few good meals out of -”

 

“ _Ow!_ ”

 

Asami let the knife fall out of her hand. It rattled noisily onto the counter. She held the ginger between her thumb and burning index finger, hissing through her teeth. Several drops of blood beaded above her knuckle.

 

“Woah -” Immediately Korra rushed to set her bowl down.  “You alright?” She braced a hand on Asami’s upper arm and peered in. Asami released another gritted groan and felt Korra wince at the sound, minor as it was.

 

“Sit,” Korra said quickly.

 

Asami did, rueing her own carelessness. Korra brought a first aid kit and bent with her elbows on the table opposite her. “It’s okay, let’s have a look,” she murmured, as Asami extended her her hand. “Oh, that’s gotta hurt… how did you…?” Korra tsked and held Asami’s finger between two of her own as she cleaned it gently, her tongue stuck out in concentration. Asami made a discomforted sound when the saline stung.

 

“Don’t be a baby,” Korra said. But she continued to handle her like she was one. Her little finger had hooked over Asami’s wrist while the others held her hand in place, and it stroked absently in a reassuring touch. What a pleasant distraction.

 

Korra tossed the cotton swab aside and neatly placed a band-aid over the cut. “There you go.” They shared a silent laugh, the corners of Asami’s lips upturning in a mildly embarrassed smile when she met her eyes. “Back to work!” Korra smiled, though she didn’t release Asami’s hand.

 

It took all the energy that Asami had spent the past hour accumulating to pull it out of Korra’s.

 

At least the water had boiled. Asami confronted the ginger again and made the tea whilst Korra flipped pancakes. As always, Korra gave Asami the more visually appealing plate, and as always, it made her smile. They sat at the table, with the whole front room awash in clear morning light.

 

“Hey, can you do that alright?” Korra asked, nodding at Asami’s fork in her injured hand.

 

“Oh. Yeah,” Asami said. “It’s fine.” She took a long draw from her cup in preparation, and then she attacked her plate of pancakes. Only after the third was gone did she speak, lifting her eyes to Korra’s as she wiped a trace of sugar from the corner of her mouth.

 

Korra was already watching her, and she swallowed and looked into her plate for a second before finding her gaze again. “Plans?”

 

“Uh… social activity?” Asami laughed. “I need to talk to someone that’s not my computer. And finish the little bit I fell asleep on last night, actually.”

 

Korra nodded. “So when’s your - this conference thing?”

 

“Next month,” replied Asami.

 

And immediately: “Far?”

 

Asami half-smiled down into the forkful she was lifting to her mouth. “Why?”

 

“Just wondering,” Korra said sheepishly.

 

“Boston,” Asami said, before shaking her head, “but you wouldn’t have fun - it’s gonna be one lecture hall after another all day, and it’s still, like, freezing up there…”

 

“Hey,” Korra said, an eager brow rising with the corners of her mouth, “try me.” She cleared her throat. “Free trip, right?”

 

“Right.” A gentle laugh rippled in Asami’s echo.

 

They sat in silence for minute as Korra devoured her pancakes, for once having to catch up to Asami. Asami took another long sip of the tea, the zing of the ginger stretching in sharp tendrils through her nerves. Then blinked her eyes open as if for the first time.

 

She didn’t look up from her cup until she felt Korra hover in her close vicinity, which (as usual) drew her attention even more than she would have liked.

 

Korra took her plate and slapped a thick envelope down in its place. Asami recognised it as some of the mail she had brought in, and she knew from another second’s examination what it contained. She tore it open and carefully withdrew its contents: several photos from Varrick’s wedding, on varying sizes of glossy card.

 

Korra came and peeked over her shoulder, immediately engaged. She gasped adorably, pushing some steam off the mug before her face into the region of Asami’s ear. She didn’t mind. “You got them printed?!”

 

Asami turned her eyes up to Korra’s glinting ones and gave her a little smile. “There were too many good ones!”

 

There really were. Of everyone. It turned out there were some real upsides to a narcissist hiring twelve professional photographers for one party. Asami had picked her favourites, mostly of the two of them and Tenzin’s family - ones that she knew she or Korra or both would truly appreciate.

 

She could have predicted Korra’s first thought word for word. “Can I send one to my mom and dad? Please? They’ll cry - _real_ photos!”

 

“Go crazy,” Asami insisted. “They’re for -” well, they weren’t _for_ Korra, but they weren’t really for herself either. “This household,” she finished. Korra practically bubbled at the notion; and Asami did, too, but she imagined it was for a different reason.

 

She couldn’t have predicted which Korra picture would choose.

 

“This one?” Korra bent down and pulled out one of the two of them at the table, arms folded over it and elbows begging to touch.

 

“Oh?” Asami said softly. She felt compelled to elaborate when Korra cast her questioning glance. “I just thought you’d want this - or this one…” She laid her hand over one of Korra and Tenzin framed by those lovely trees in tubs, and another of Korra on the rooftop, alone and arresting, that in all honestly Asami couldn’t look directly at.

 

“I wanna update them on the _household_ ,” Korra explained cheerfully. She set her cup down, shoving it further away from the photos at an afterthought (somewhat ironically, as the tea nearly sloshed onto the table at the movement.) “And that one’s too cute, right, I gotta keep it,” she prodded the solo photo with a finger.

 

Asami could not bring herself to comment. _Cute_ was more than an understatement, it was positively austere.

 

She let Korra’s eager hand on the table peruse the photos, enjoying the slideshow. Korra paused long on the sole image of Asami alone - not moving till (once again) Asami’s heart had picked up an extra beat or ten - before she drew her hand away suddenly like it had scalded her -

 

“YoulookedsoprettyAsami,” she expelled in one quiet breath, before hurrying to the next one.

 

Asami schooled her own breath, and then Korra’s next words put everything from her mind.

 

“I want this one.”

 

It was the two of them, Korra’s arms a tangle around her shoulders, one over, one clasping from under; her own fast around the waist of Korra’s pretty little blue dress - every bone easy; _glowing_ in the final embers of post-dance delirium. Their smiles matched, ear to ear to ear to ear. And still the very air was sumptuous (she could _feel_ that day as much she saw it), such that their rushed embrace looked… elegant.

 

It was the photo that Asami wanted. The one she had let herself want, on the condition that she sent for all these others that it might disappear  in the pile. She certainly couldn’t relinquish that now.

 

“ _I_ want this one.” She hoped the fact that she was the one that had gone to the trouble of printing these might be reason enough for Korra to relent -

 

“Pleeease, I love it.”

 

\- And expected that it probably wouldn’t be.

 

“Please,” Korra repeated, more politely. “I really...” A self-conscious little huff punctuated her entreatment. “I don’t have something this nice - I really want something… representative… of me and you.” Her voice had nearly disappeared by the last word.  She willed her tight, tentative smile into a pout.

 

There was a part of Asami thrilled enough to hear that that she could have given up her cause entirely - she teetered on the edge. She could always get another one, couldn't she?

 

“What if…” Asami sucked in the back of her teeth. “What if we just put it downstairs? Hm? That’s fair, right...”

 

Korra softened and smiled, but Asami realised she was not quite satisfied when she spoke. “But then you - it gets to stay if I leave, doesn't it?”

 

Oh, that. Asami could have laughed at her own oversight. “Um…”

 

Korra saved her. “Well, I’m not planning to, so maybe I’ll just demand it as a consolation prize if you decide to kick me out - what colour frame?”

 

“Silver,” Asami replied automatically. “I have one.”

 

Asami cleared the table of their cups and all beautiful and almost-incriminating photos. It was with a quietly dreamy smile that Korra set to doing the dishes. Asami poured her second cup of tea and watched, before deciding that dishes was not something you were supposed to watch a person do.

 

Suddenly Korra’s phone buzzed, the table carrying the vibrations in discordant drone. Her head shot up and stiffened as she groaned. “Is it Mom?” She turned and gave Asami a beseeching look. _Take it, please._

 

It was. Asami did.

 

 _Hi, honey!_ Korra’s mom sounded eerily similar to her daughter over these lines - that was a pattern Asami had been noticing; but she didn’t have time to wonder if her own voice was the same -

 

“Hi. Um, it’s Asami.”

 

_Oh, oh. Hi, honey! Is Korra... up?_

 

Asami had to smile. She braced a hand on the sideboard as she faced the window. “Yes, she… she’s busy.”

 

 _Huh! Stranger things…_ Senna said after a pause. _Well, did she tell you I’m coming down for a while?_

 

“She did.”

 

_Great! Looks like it’s going to be…  the 20th to the 23rd? This month. Is that alright? You’re allowed to say no._

 

Asami rushed to reassure her. “No, no, it’s - it’s totally fine.”

 

_Alright, Asami. I just wanted to let you know. And how are you doing? School treating you right? Korra’s always saying you work too hard - don’t work too hard, honey._

 

She glared at Korra, without malice. “I won’t,” she laughed. “I’m pretty much done with my thesis, actually, so I should - I might take it easy for while.”

 

_That’s wonderful news! Congratulations! When are you graduating?_

 

“Oh. Normal time. June.”

 

_Perfect! We can come down for both of you - okay, take care. Don’t be worrying my daughter, alright? I’ll see you soon._

 

“Alright,” Asami promised. “Bye.”

 

She hung up, feeling warmer than she ought to.

 

Immediately Korra began to laugh. “I’m gonna field all her calls to you now, okay?”

 

Asami directed a questioning shake of the head at her.

 

“No. It’s good. She’d be asking me for your written permission if I’d taken that call.”

 

“Mm.” Asami picked up a dish towel and began to dry Korra’s washing. She was still stuck on something. “So your mom says you’re always worrying about me,” she laughed lightly.

 

Only the sound of the faucet filled the seconds that followed. Finally, Korra said, “Isn’t that my job?”

 

 _No?_ Was it? She supposed there was a certain responsibility that friendship entailed, but this sounded so… well, serious. She had said _job_. Korra seemed to read her mind.

 

“I don’t just mean, like, ‘cause - ‘cause we’re friends. I’m the only one around at home and stuff, so I have to look out for you, right?”

 

She did have a point. A point that was making Asami blush.

 

“At least, that’s what I think. That’s how it should be.” She laughed. “Or maybe I shouldn’t go around telling people what a _loving_ roommate _you_ are.”

 

That one caught her unawares. “Oh, be quiet -”

 

Korra gave her a wicked grin as she wiped her hands off on her thighs. Asami stopped her as she made to leave.

 

“Hey, wait -” Korra halted abruptly, and Asami brushed off the flour on her cheek with a gentle swipe of the towel. She felt her start slightly at the intrusion, and though Korra smiled again once she realised what Asami was doing, she remained rather stiff.

 

“Have - have I had stuff on my face all morning?” A flush of red replaced the powdery white.

 

“Not _all_ morning.” Asami put the towel down.

 

It wasn’t exactly mortifying, though. She didn’t know why Korra’s skin wasn’t calming down.

 

“What now?” Korra said shortly. “Did you wanna go outside…?”

 

Asami considered for a second, and relented. “I could use a few more hours of sleep, actually.” Not something Asami _ever_ tended to do.

 

“Well, that's not a social activity,” Korra said, soaking her words in mock derision. But she almost looked proud of her. And for the final time, her gentle, keen smile shone up just long enough to make Asami look down. “Go on then. But, uh, Nia and the others invited me out later - they told me to ask you. I… wasn't planning to go tonight if you weren't, I know how burned out you are. You wanna go?”

 

Asami inclined her head slowly, trying to work out exactly why _her_ fatigue would be the arbiter of Korra's actions, and when she decided that it meant that Korra would rather be at home with her all day than out without - was planning on it, as a matter of fact - it only sidetracked her thought and delayed her acceptance of the offer. Some small burst of feeling curled her hand where it lay on the counter.

 

"Asami?"

 

“That - that sounds great." Asami watched her fingers flex before meeting Korra's eyes again and biting her lip. "Like I said, exactly what I need.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

_If I lose a sequin here and there_  
_And take my time on every stair_  
_Can I rely on you, when this whole thing is through_  
_To be for me the everthere?_

◦

 

Park days always reminded Korra of being younger: not _young_ , necessarily - just not on an endless treadmill of school-, home- and housework; papers and deadlines. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t had many last summer; and she associated them strongly with deeper, more vibrant regions in time: being out with her parents as a kid, skipping school to frolick around with her new puppy. Laying in the grass at 9pm with her new best friend for a proper reflection session on her first year of college before the flight back home.

 

It was her favourite part of these longer days, and as the anniversary of her accident came and went she found herself somewhat wistful. In this city late March meant winter, more or less, but not for Korra. To her the very first bloom seemed to signal summer, as Asami had said somewhat derisively. (She took it as a compliment.)

 

This week really was warm though - so much so that it was Asami that suggested they come out. Korra hadn’t expected that of her, when she was so overly concerned with packing for and fretting about Boston this weekend and her presentation. They were leaving tonight, and she had proposed that enjoying the sunshine would be the least stressful way to kill the day.

 

“You know I get a bit nervous,” Asami said, as they walked through the gently sloping meadows of Prospect Park. “I mean, I’m excited. But I’m nervous!” She laughed.

 

“You’re gonna blow them away,” Korra told her, with true conviction. Asami was a genius, and that wasn’t just something Korra believed because she… because she knew Asami intimately. In fact, if anything, she thought the fact that she knew Asami so well gave her the authority to assert with perfect confidence that she really was brilliant.

 

One of Asami’s shoulders rose in a rather shy half shrug. “Oh, well, I hope so. I’m really proud of this project.” She couldn't help her grin.

 

Korra smiled. That made her very happy to hear. Asami veritably sparkled when she was working on something that satisfied her. Not that Korra couldn’t read her even if she didn’t, but generally speaking, Asami wasn’t somebody given to divulging all her moods - so when she did, it meant she really _was_ feeling something.

 

And when that was something made her twinkle like that, Korra’s heart soared.

 

Sometimes, lately, it felt like it would fly right out of her chest; flutter fast enough to float. And go make its home in Asami’s, where it really wanted to be.

 

She swallowed at her own temerity. She didn’t quite know what to do her… predicament, but letting it literally run away from her didn’t seem like the right option. Still, so much for taking it easy. She comforted herself with the fact that she didn't really take any kind of feeling easy.

 

But it was all painfully profound. And it was not new; and once she had looked the fact squarely in the eye she had known that the knowing wasn’t new either - her feelings weren’t new, or even newfound, if she really thought about it, which only really suggested they were… deep. Had roots, which she had been tracing and retracing, and thinking, _of course._

 

That was the part that excited her the most, and daunted her most.

 

It was easy to get carried away - she knew herself well enough to know that she tended to get carried away. And Asami’s easy nature made it confusing; because the notion that Korra - that she could very easily, _did_ , want her - had struck not like the death knell that she imagined wanting your best friend should probably sound like, but a magical chime.

 

Maybe it wasn’t that real, because Asami didn’t exactly make her nervous: she practically imbibed Korra with confidence and energy. Korra didn’t find it necessary to keep things from her (unsexy things), and she had known for a long and thankful time that she could pour her soul out to her. (In fact, she thought a little desperately, she knew what would help her untangle this, and it was the one thing off the table.) And…if you _really_ liked someone - passionately, you would think twice about telling them some things, wouldn’t you? Or maybe Asami was just that special.

 

Well. That wasn’t a maybe.

 

She had tried to give it proper consideration, and realised as soon as she did that she was weighing up something that was already a foregone conclusion. So she stopped resisting, doubting. It wasn’t hard for Korra to have faith in her feelings. They sort of figured her out rather than the other way round; clicked the disparate pieces of sensation and emotion floating in her mind together.

 

It hadn’t even been revelatory. The only marvel was that it hadn’t clicked a little sooner. God, she was stupid.

 

She watched Asami smile down thoughtfully at her red pumps as they walked. Her face was distant, but in a pleasant way. Korra imagined she was imagining something nice, something like the aftermath of a presentation well delivered and received.

 

She stamped away the urge to slip her hand in hers, shoving it in the pocket of her thin sweatshirt instead.

 

As they strolled over the green, Korra inhaled deeply and felt her nose twitch. Spring was in full force, the tickle of warm, grass-scented air invading her senses as all about her the tiny, intermittent whirs of insects sounded. She kept her eyes out for a spot where they could stop and sit; and once she had descried one out in the shade of a wooded section on the horizon she pointed it out to Asami, who nodded her approval.

 

In her right hand Naga strained against her leash and Korra turned to back to Asami with an eager suggestion on her lips.

 

“Hey, let’s race! I think Naga’s still got some left in her.” Naga was ecstatic today, thanks to the weather.

 

Asami looked skeptical, though Korra caught the momentary flash of a thrill of adventure in her eyes. It was a certain streak in Asami that she loved drawing out, whether by enticing her to skip class, run a red light or try a sport she never had - not only for the reward of the heady rush of excitement illuminating her face, but the thrill that Korra herself got, from being the one to lead Asami in the indulgence of sudden wild flights of fancy. It was Korra that checked the mirror so Asami could speed once in a while.

 

“You wanna humiliate me in public?” Asami laughed, before conceding with a grave sigh that was quite at odds with the speed with which she gave in. “Okay.”

 

Korra grinned. “Alright.” She gave Asami on her left a small smirk, then turned likewise to her right. “Ready, Naga? Alright, let’s _go!_ ”

 

Naga bounded ahead, unsurprisingly. She ran a few extra laps in a circle around the clearing that was their destination whilst she waited for Korra and Asami. Korra leapt her final metre into the centre of the circle, in time for Naga to bear down on her with an excited, playful pounce. Korra laughed freely as she threw her arms around her middle, turning her grin up just as Asami, too, buckled into the pile.

 

Asami straightened her legs out and tucked them in so she was sitting cross-legged opposite Korra and Naga. “Nice spot!” She commented, still panting. Korra watched her blink around the clearing as carefully as if she were picking out interiors.

 

“You’re welcome.” Korra followed her eyes. They were in a wide, clear gap in the trees, which were thick enough where they shrouded to make it feel like a small glade. The dappled light fell straight into their hair, making Asami’s shine almost true black. A few more days like this one would glean the highlights out of it, though. Korra could practically feel the sun bleach her own hair as it glared hot on her back; and she shook it out with a wiggle of her shoulders. It felt wonderful.

 

“I brought…” Asami cleared her throat gently. “I’ve got a blanket...” She pulled her bag off her shoulder and placed it between them before tapping her fingers in a quick rhythm over it. “Pink lemonade - couldn’t get raspberries so I used cranberry juice - sandwiches, cake, cantaloupe…” She had packed a perfect picnic.

 

Korra smirked. “I thought you said you were gonna relax.”

 

“We are relaxing,” Asami said earnestly. She leaned back, let her eyes fall shut and inhaled deeply to emphasise the point.

 

Korra smiled. In the few seconds where Asami’s eyes were closed she stared openly, feeling her own eyes and chest expand to absorb her; and it felt like she was rushing to steal something. Asami opened her eyes and everything contracted back to it usual shape.

 

Korra drew the blanket out, flattening it over their spot. It gave her hands and eyes something to be be occupied with.

 

Asami nudged herself onto the blanket, pressing a hand to her forehead. “It’s, like, on the verge of _too_ warm today. I could use another shower.” She sighed, little effort in her regretful laugh. Korra knew it was merely the nervous restlessness talking.

 

“You should have come to the pool with us,” she said, pulling out Asami’s lemonade from the bag. It was still cold. She swiped the condensation off the neck of the bottle and onto the back of her own.

 

Asami’s lip curled before she shook her head. “Not complaining. I kind of missed this. I’m looking forward to… a better summer.” She kicked off her shoes. “You know?” She added belatedly, watching her toes wriggle.

 

Yeah, Korra had been, too. The way things had turned out, it had been a couple of years since she’d had what she could even consider a real summer. As she sat and picked at the grass she felt the memory of last year creep around the edges of her consciousness again, like it simply lived in the fragrant spring air - and conceded that the change in season was quite inevitably going to draw back the echo of a certain despondency and dread.

 

“Not hungry?” Asami’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

 

“Huh? Oh.” She reached for a salmon sandwich. “Why are you even asking that?” Korra took a bite that she chewed rather contemplatively as she sobered again. “No, I was just thinking… I mean, I sure hope I have a better summer, seeing as I basically gave up my mobility for Lent last year.”

 

Asami laughed, though Korra could tell she found that morbid. “Uh, bad analogy,” she coughed, frowning. “Your mobility did not make a miraculous return.”

 

Korra graced it with a laugh. “Oh, if only,” she said wistfully. “I think I am gonna have a better summer though.”

 

“I bet,” Asami replied. She unwrapped a slice of melon and settled on her elbows. “So what are you planning?”

 

Well. Korra hadn’t based her conviction off many plans… or any plans, really. Beyond the fact that this year they were going to be together. Which she blurted rather precipitously, suddenly overcome.

 

“To stay with you.”

 

So much for taking it easy. She reddened and stuffed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth - quite the regrettable decision, since it meant she couldn't really come to her own rescue for several long seconds.

 

Not that she meant to dilute the sentiment. She was sticking by it.

 

“I don’t know,” she said quickly to the ground. “But I think that would make it better already. Right?” She laughed sheepishly, and repeated, “I dunno. I just missed you last summer. And I know you missed me. And needed me. I guess I’m thinking that we can… write that over this year…?” She raised her eyes and blinked hard, agitated by her own inability to explain herself. “That sounds stupid, right?”

 

Asami had sat up again, her brow knitted above an expressionless mouth. She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s stupid.” She sighed, and her words were hesitant. “I wish you didn’t feel like you have anything to make up for.”

 

“It’s not-” Korra clarified hurriedly. It really wasn’t like that. It wasn’t just that. “I didn’t mean like… it’s not about my conscience.”

 

Asami blew out a laugh at her indignance, watching her eagerly now.

 

“I’m just happy we get to…” Korra shook her head, swallowing her words with a tight smile, the tightness so sudden and unwelcome. Here it was, the memory of dread again. It cupped her heart, colouring every sensation; a shadow in the corner of her mind which wouldn't be ousted, that loomed larger the deeper they drew into the season of her convalescence. _That_ was why she needed to write these months over.

 

Now that she had the strength to, she was desperate for the chance. Because now she _could_ \- the memories weren’t pleasant, but they _were_ bearable, in a way none of it had seemed like it would ever be last year. The echo tasted stale and remote, distinctly faraway. And already this was different: she was going to talk about it.

 

She was going to tell Asami every little thing she felt, now she had the private audience with her that she had yearned for before - yearned hard enough to understand now that her attention wasn’t to be wasted, dismissed, scared of.

 

In fact, the shadow retreated with the very thought of Asami, as if the dappled light was penetrating straight through her ribs.  

 

“Korra?” Like an anchor her name pulled her back into her surroundings. Korra blinked. She had left Asami hanging. She still wasn’t clear how to explain her thoughts, but it didn’t matter, because they were getting out anyway.

 

“Sometimes I can… feel myself - not going back there - but thinking about that dark place, you know? Just because it’s that time of year…” She shrugged. “I guess that’s what it means to me now. But I don’t want that association,” she stated firmly. “I want to forget about that feeling, and make _new…_ Not to make up for something, but - make it over. ‘Cause I keep thinking about how it all felt…”

 

She watched the nail of her thumb dig into the earth. Asami took a breath in, but Korra continued despite the way her voice constricted, before Asami could speak.

 

“You don’t know this but… well, when we met up after I came back,” she blew out the brewing emotion in a laugh. “I cried and cried that night. I don’t even know what that was.” Relief, but that wasn’t strong enough. Maybe it was the memory, or simply the speaking aloud, but her tears came thick and fast and silent as she reached instinctively for the hand that met hers halfway.

 

She sniffed and Naga, alerted by the sound, laid her head over her lap. “I guess it never really hit what I was missing, what I missed. And when I knew that things were going to be okay…”

 

Well, she had realised just what she'd needed all that time. And nothing in the eight months since had proven otherwise.

 

“Oh, Korra…” Asami’s voice was quiet.

 

“You always say I took the time I needed, but that’s not true. I needed - I could have used _you_. I didn’t let you help. I didn’t give myself the opportunity to figure that out, or even help you back. But now that I _have_ … I just want to be with you.”

 

And then the shadow would retreat, because always Asami made it.

 

Asami pulled her by the wrist and into her arms. Korra sank into her free shoulder (the other was occupied by her ponytail) and held on. Asami exhaled and crossed her hands over Korra's back, a palm over each shoulder blade, rubbing inwards to her spine with her thumbs.

 

Korra melted into her. The heat certainly helped. Their little open air glade felt utterly, oddly private, like there was nobody around for miles save the three of them.

 

How had she gotten here from summer plans?

 

She thought about how Asami used to hold her like this. It would have been this time last year.

 

It was hard to tell, sometimes, exactly what had been real and what she might have imagined in some dream or delirium brought on by the confusing cocktail of meds, anxiety and regretful longing. So she probably had imagined being held like this a few times, but there had definitely been something real for her imagination to run away with. Korra had held onto the memory, in the absence of a real Asami to hold, and wished that it wasn’t tainted by her own running away.

 

 _This_ embrace wouldn’t be, and they were almost in the same position.

 

She almost told Asami as much, until she felt the heat rise in her face as it lay in her shoulder; and the skin on her neck tighten despite it when a breath skimmed over it. She’d probably do well to keep a lid on some things.

 

Where Asami’s skin met hers their heat melded and it became overwarm; she was hyper aware of it now, and maybe the weight of her shoulder was bearing too hard into hers. Suddenly her own body felt cumbersome, ungainly; like she couldn’t be sure what to do with it - had to work against it, her heart overlarge, too, in her chest, and tongue too thick to swallow down the acute alertness that she still couldn’t pull away for -

 

It’s not as though Asami was pulling away either. One of her hands shifted to the small of Korra’s back, smoothing over her t-shirt in a motion that felt deliberately, unbearably measured. She focused on the cool ridges of the grass compressed under her thighs. The humid air seemed to press her deeper into both it and Asami. Nearby, Naga lay with her paws forward, head keened over them, following the erratic path of a bumblebee with her eyes - in the opposite direction to Korra. And with the air so still it felt like they really were alone.

 

Asami’s hand was melting through her shirt.

 

A sudden _ding!_ brought her out of their bodies. The flash of Asami’s phone peeked from its bed of grass by her lap - Korra nearly jumped, felt an automatic sigh of alarm slip through her lips as the elaborate tension in her head cracked and fell away, even as it was spinning to what she imagined from the knot in her throat was its peak. She pulled back (too quickly, in immediate hindsight) and dug her nails into her palm. As the last of the heavy sensation dissipated Asami set her phone down.

 

“What?” Korra said casually, wishing it had come out louder.

 

“My boss,” Asami laughed. “Says good luck.” She pushed her hands down over her skirt and smiled. “Cake?”

 

Korra rolled her shoulders experimentally, just in case that tension had been in her body and not her mind. She nodded. Asami unwrapped the slices of cherry loaf she had brought. Korra found herself straightening the back of her shirt once or twice, discreetly.

 

They got home with enough time to have dinner and remind the neighbour to feed Naga and take her on her walk in the morning. Asami nearly slipped back into her faintly neurotic state as soon as the door shut them in. It was a shame she had to drive, Korra thought. “Okay, as soon as we get there you’re getting a glass of wine,” she told her. “You gotta sleep tonight!”

 

By 8pm they were almost set to go. Korra tapped a foot on the shiny floor as she waited for Asami, glancing around the living room with her hastily packed bag dangling from an arm. It was spotless downstairs; Asami always like to come back to a pristine house. Her eyes fell on Asami’s map. The states were dotted with pink, but Korra had stuck a few blues here and there, since Asami had handed her the tub of pins upon her return from a field class to Pittsburgh. Korra's initial response had been along the lines of _what about when I leave?_ \- which Asami had dismissed with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes; and which, incidentally, had pretty much been her reaction to the item that Korra’s attention drifted to next.

 

The photo from Varrick’s wedding. Korra felt as light looking at it now as she had the first time, and still she felt compelled to look away. It really did seem… a lot, sitting down here in the living room. Not that she didn’t want it here - quite the opposite - but she couldn’t help but feel that it, um, projected a certain idea. Her mom had found it lovely when she arrived last month, and so had Bolin, who squealed upon seeing it here (and Bolin’s grandma had said very sweet things about both of their faces, too), and several more of their acquaintances had expressed their liking, but…

 

Well, if Korra had been a stranger walking in here for the first time she’d have made some... inferences.

 

The inferences in question sent a thrill through her, and the fact that they did so gave her pause. A lot of it. She couldn’t help her exhilaration at the thought of - ofbeingwithAsami (her mind's eye could hardly look directly at the notion) but... Maybe she should be trying to? She wasn’t just _anyone,_ Korra reminded herself. (That seemed to be the root of her problems.)

 

“Korra, let’s go.” Asami’s voice drew her out of her head again. She hadn’t realised how deep in there she had been.

 

She kissed Naga goodbye after Asami did, preparing mentally for the four or so hours on the road that lay before them. Gosh, she thought as she pulled the door of the passenger seat shut, she could use the time to review. She was looking forward to going to bed tonight, actually - to setting her head straight (or not, apparently) with no interruptions, in the comfort of her own company. She wasn’t used to _organising_ her feelings like this… But she understood that this, that Asami, really did warrant the effort. The stakes were high.

 

And that was all well and good until Asami said, “If you don’t kick me off the bed,” (to Korra’s repeated insistence that she get a good night’s sleep), and Korra had to pause mid-swig.

 

Of course. She swallowed and capped her water bottle slowly. Asami was a capital-S Speaker at this thing, so they got a free room. _A_ room.

 

Korra suppressed the stab of weird zeal that shot through her with an equally potent jab of apprehension and kicked them both under the glove compartment. Okay, she decided, and discarded all thought of sensibly untangling her emotions. Whatever. She was probably going to suck at that anyway.

 

And there wasn’t much to figure out, anyway.

 

She knew that in her heart of hearts, and it climbed out to fill her whole chest when she watched Asami get ready for bed that night in their cute, suitably minimalist hotel room.

 

“Catch,” Asami said, balancing her hairbrush precariously on her shoulder. It took a minute. “Catch,” she repeated laughingly, finally throwing Korra a t-shirt from her bag. It turned out Korra had only packed pajama pants. It wasn’t her mildy inconveniencing oversight that stirred anything in particular in Korra (she wasn’t the most careful packer), but the prospect of wearing Asami’s shirt to bed. With Asami.

 

No bra.

 

“Hey.” For the billionth time today, Asami interrupted her faintly dangerous thoughts. She had pulled her neatly brushed hair over one shoulder.

 

Korra looked at her expectantly, the shirt clutched in her hand.

 

Asami sat on the bed, smoothing the patch of sheet before her. It was a nervous tic. Korra waited.

 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.” The hand on the bed curled. “And you have to know how glad I am that you came to stay with me.” She said that like she hadn’t swooped in to save Korra’s ass.

 

“I really lucked out with that shitty room, huh?” Korra said.

 

“Well. Blessing in disguise,” Asami replied. She turned serious again. “But, you know… we’re graduating soon, and I’ve got - all this going on,” she said, casting a glance toward the sleek little table with the shiny conference program on it, “and I’ve just had the best year, you know, considering, and…” She pushed a thumb down into the fabric and looked her straight in the eyes. “It's thanks to _you_.”

 

Korra was overflowing. She kept her mouth shut, in fear of what might fall out, and smiled, confident that Asami understood that the feeling was mutual. And then she fled.

 

In the en suite, she changed, tugging Asami’s shirt over herself with extra attention for no reason at all. She looked in the mirror for the first time that day. The shirt was lilac and loose and her skin prickled everywhere it touched her. Korra splashed her face.

 

She turned the light out before climbing into bed. The linens were cool, and Asami was motionless on her other side.

 

“Alarm?” Korra asked.

 

“8am,” said her gently muffled voice. Korra could hear the cheek in it.

 

“Screw you,” she said. She turned over and pulled the stiff covers over her reluctant smile.

 

Korra felt Asami shift after a moment as she lifted her hair out from under her head. Where it came to rest the end of a tendril tickled Korra’s ear.

 

Asami was right. About their life. She was right that everything was going right. For her, and for Korra.

 

All she could want. She was back to her best on the field, in the ring, everywhere. And off them. They’d be graduating in no time. Together. And Korra had the internship of a lifetime to look forward to. She closed her eyes.

 

Everything smelled of her in this bed, especially this shirtsleeve that she had quite unintentionally smooshed her face in.

 

There was just one more thing Korra wanted.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at last, There Is Only One Bed  
> 3 to go! thanks for reading, and feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://www.guileheroine.tumblr.com) for extra tibits


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! And the most overdue update yet, thank you if you've stuck around!

_I've been waiting on tonight_  
_Crystallize, crystallize_  
_I've been looking in your eyes_  
_We're on the rise, on the rise_

_◦_

 

A leg had been slung over her waist. That and the draught across her feet were the first things she registered.

 

Before her eyes had even opened, Asami’s hand flew to the bedside table and clamped around her phone. She didn’t want the alarm to go off - when the thought materialised she immediately unglued her eyelids and disabled the alarm, though _7.44am_ told her she had little reason to rush.

 

She just didn’t want it to wake Korra. Not that Korra didn’t need to wake. But.

 

Asami directed the most pitying internal eye roll at herself.

 

She didn’t want it to wake Korra _yet_ . Not until she herself had woken, anchored her groggy mind back into this room, this bed; and simply _been_ for however many minutes weren’t too many, or too weird, or too selfish.

 

Korra’s leg was heavy and pleasant against the cold. It wasn’t a surprise at all (she’d have been more surprised to wake with no limbs impinging on her person), but that didn’t seem to make this sensation any less… inspiring. Well. She could have imagined something a little more inspired, no doubt, but the reality of this innocuous touch was oddly stirring.

 

Asami considered the chalk white ceiling, and then turned to consider Korra. Slowly, so as not to disturb her. She was fast asleep on an arm that she had folded awkwardly over her pillow, tucked next to a bunched mass of blanket - everything that wasn’t covering Asami (and a leg.)

 

She was cold. Asami knew because Korra had inched right into her, squishing the blanket between them where she’d have better pulled it over herself. Asami sighed inwardly before gently easing the blanket out from between them. She draped it lightly over Korra.

 

Outside it was raining a steady rhythm. The patter on the window, the sound of it, was practically anchoring her to the bed - nothing made her want to curl up more than that sound - and that wasn’t even considering the weight that actually _was_ anchoring her. She briefly entertained whether the fact she’d probably wake Korra if she moved was a good enough reason to stay in bed. (It wasn’t.)

 

Experimentally, she slid her weight onto her hands and lifted herself. No, she couldn’t quite sit up. Asami slumped back into a semi-prone position, shoulders mashing her pillow into the headboard.

 

“Korra,” she said, a bit flimsy. And louder: ” _Korra._ ”

 

Korra grunted and the anchor of her leg tightened also in response, foot slipping against the back of Asami’s knee. Asami sighed more outwardly this time and picked the phone up again. _7.51._ She put it down and glanced back to her other side.

 

Carefully, Asami lifted tentative fingers a few inches into the air before dropping them against the back of Korra’s head; then forward, a few locks of hair sliding smooth against them. She combed them back roughly and yet cautiously. Korra released the first shallow breath - on the definitive road to waking - and already Asami felt something slipping away.

 

If she left her here she could trust that Korra would comfortably sleep until half the day’s sessions were over, including Asami’s talk… No. She’d hate that. She’d hate to not be there for her.

 

Asami smiled a brief smile rooted in the pit of her stomach, where all her indulgent thoughts about Korra tended to rest.

 

Okay, enough.

 

“ _Korra_.”

 

Korra’s eyes flew open. Asami didn’t even have the time to remove her hand.

 

She wiped the surprise off her face, neutralised her expression against both that and the sudden clench in the pit of her stomach.

 

“Hey…” Her fingers retreated as stealthily as possible. Korra wasn’t awake enough to notice. “I - we gotta get up,” she said soothingly. Asami smiled again despite herself. Having Korra like this, resting easy and mildly disoriented in a tumble of fabrics that happened to include her own shirt, made silly soft words want to tumble into her mouth.

 

Korra’s jaw set subtly, a negligible change in her rather blank face that Asami naturally didn’t miss. “I’m gonna, uh… I’ll go use the bathroom and you can lie in for a few. Okay?” She paused and waited. The pause became pregnant. Asami saw the awareness of her body filter into Korra’s eyes, but rather than withdrawing her leg, as Asami was patiently awaiting, she used it to leverage herself forward so that her head came to rest below the slope of Asami’s shoulder. A cool arm crept up and cupped the other one. She nestled right there.

 

Asami froze, her jaw stiff right above the expanse of neck into which Korra’s forehead had fallen. She was melting into her, heavy from sleep.

 

Asami held her back, perhaps not to the best of her ability, imagining this was an addled reaction to the prospect of getting up so soon. Then Korra mumbled, “Don’t be nervous.”

 

And she was talking about the presentation. But she did it whilst _nuzzling_ ; and the words stuck like arrows in Asami’s lungs for a different reason, until she managed to say (against the better judgment of everything but her brain), “C’mon, I gotta go…”

 

Anyway, this thing had better go well, Asami thought, as she closed the bathroom door behind her with a heavy exhale. It had better be worth pulling Korra off of her at 8am in the morning.

 

She dressed quickly. Her makeup took a while longer; and then Asami stood straight and regarded herself in the mirror. The outfit that she had selected about this time yesterday was still to her liking: a creamy blush blouse tucked into her tapered pants. Classic black blazer. She looked smart - she _was_ smart. She pulled her hair over one shoulder, before reaching into her handbag for a final touch.

 

It was a simple silver necklace with a single half-moon charm. Korra’s, technically. She had caught and broken the chain in the axle of her wheelchair last year. Asami had soldered it back together, but not quick enough that Korra didn’t leave without it; and so she had kept it.

 

When she lifted her head back up after fastening it, Korra caught her eye in the mirror on her way out of the en suite. “You look… _swell!_ ” She said and chuckled. She was already dressed, and she threw Asami’s shirt back to her. She ran a hand through her hair and shook it out. Asami was about to offer her her hairbrush when noticed that it looked pretty great. “So. What’s the plan?”

 

Asami paused for a second before turning around. “I’m on at 11.30. But there’s a panel after that I might see. But I won’t go to the workshop, you’ll be bored to death.” She smiled her alternative suggestion. “We can go see the town.”

 

Korra was grateful for the consideration. At least that’s what Asami thought the grin on her face was. She tore her eyes away and reached for her keycard. They took their complimentary breakfast from downstairs before heading off.

 

The venue was a clean and spacious complex of school buildings, sectioned off from the rest of the block by bright banners and stream of coordinators and guests. Once they had located the correct hall, Asami left Korra to mill with other attendees, so she could prep with her supervisor and fellow participants. (“Destroy them,” Korra said emphatically, as she released her with a little squeeze - _not a competition,_ Asami thought as she rolled her eyes.) They were a friendly if nervous bunch of graduate students, mostly older than Asami; and all specially selected for the ingenuity of their projects. Accordingly, Asami was up last. She listened from the front row as each in turn relayed the fruits of their labour for the past year; and by the time she stood her nervous energy had largely been subsumed under a rather different sort - the kick of science, maybe, because God, she loved this work. And it would love her back now. She could stand to show off a bit.

 

Halfway through her favourite spiel about the mechanical potential of bio-inspired materials, she caught Korra’s eye in the audience. She smiled, and Asami smiled back; but, well… she couldn’t help but feel like Korra had been looking at her like she was talking about something (even) more incredible than that. It made her want to stand taller. A fresh burst of fervour. “And so mimicking this architecture can not only yield ultrastrong materials,” she practically bounced on her toes, “but the process of printing them is highly efficient, highly versatile, with many high-tech applications other than this one…If we’re talking about resilience to structural _or_ environmental stress...”

 

She had to make it through a small army of questions and compliments before she found Korra, who opened her arms as soon as she saw her. Asami couldn’t not run into them.

 

Between her relief and utter delight and the impact of the embrace, she was floating; Korra’s arms around her neck tightened, her own fast around her waist - and then she felt warm lips on her cheek, and Asami came crashing back into her body. Her heart see sawed out of it in perfect step, but before she had time to fully register the sensation, she was pulled another away again; by a voice this time, suddenly and maybe graciously.

 

“Asami! There you are!”

 

They released each other at once. Straightening, Asami turned to greet her supervisor, whose face was triumphant. “ _Great_ job out there! You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

 

Asami laughed, crimson. “Hi. Sunita. Thank you! Man, if _you’re_ impressed...”

 

The woman laughed loud and waved the comment off. Asami beamed. She realised she still had Korra’s wrist in her grasp and pulled her gently by it. “This is Korra. Um, my friend, Korra.” She wasn’t sure what exactly she was clarifying.

 

Sunita looked between them intently. “I see, the roommate?” She pushed her glasses up with a bony finger and smirked.

 

“Yeah, hi.” Korra bit her lip and produced a polite smile. Asami chanced a brief glance at the mouth that had absolutely, irrevocably just kissed her face.

 

“Alright…” Said Sunita, measured. “I’ll leave you to it, ladies.” She held up her phone and tapped it like she had been taking notes. “As for your _performance_ -” she addressed Asami with eyes that glinted, “I won’t keep you now - but send me that Powerpoint, call me tonight and we can figure out what you can use of this later...” Sunita smiled and turned to leave. “Check in on Tuesday, Asami, and wonderful work! Hold on to this one, Korra…” She quirked a brow and she was off.

 

Asami made a sound between a cough and a laugh, suddenly self-conscious. Her cheeks felt sore, whether from smiling, or trying not to, she wasn’t sure. She heard Korra say, “Hey,” and finally turned to her, grounding herself firmly. Her toes curled inside her boots.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Korra said, low enough to make it sound conspiratorial. And extra appealing. (Asami allowed her mind to run riot for a moment with that invitation, though she knew exactly what the connotation wasn’t.)

 

But she was still on air.

 

“Alright, fine,” she agreed.

 

Korra beamed and sprang ahead of her. “Now where do they do those bacon maple donuts?”

 

She led Asami through the throngs of people to the parking lot. Asami’s cheek burned the whole way. They didn’t get a chance to really talk until they were on their way to said donuts.

 

Asami rattled off her personal recount of her performance, just to get it out and over, and Korra reminded her sternly not to fixate.

 

“...Okay, but _everyone_ does that! It doesn’t matter, anyway, they were all gone as soon as you smiled.” (Asami gave her a look that tried to say, _Seriously? This is about my intellectual acumen,_ but Korra didn’t seem to care.) She nodded vigorously. “It’s true. I’m pretty sure the dude next to me fell in love.”

 

How about that? “Well, I hope he was listening,” she laughed.

 

Korra shrugged. “Well, I was.” Asami wondered how that was relevant.

 

They sat in a cafe in the heart of town. Korra’s extra large bacon donut gleamed in all its glory between them. Asami put her hands around her coffee cup and breathed in deeply, and watched Korra watch her prey.

 

Korra tucked her hair behind her ears in preparation. It stuck out far less that it did when she did that in Asami’s head, Asami noticed - it had grown out significantly since the last trim, skirting her shoulder at the front. Korra pulled the sleeves of her shirt up and took up her knife and fork, tongue darting out across her lip, glossing up her anticipatory hint of a smile. But she set the cutlery down almost as immediately, moving to tear a chunk off the donut with her hands instead. That was more like it. Asami awaited the orgasmic first bite, waited to evaluate from Korra’s reaction whether it really was that great.

 

It never came. Korra stopped all off a sudden, like an afterthought, and all of her firmness whooshed out of her. She held her hand out with a tentative smile. “Wait - you first. It’s your day.” Asami felt happy to oblige, quite tickled, in fact. Korra was giving her enough of a show. She held out her hand to receive the piece Korra had torn off.

 

When it never came (again), the palm Asami had extended curled on the table and became clammy, because she knew Korra was going to feed it to her. She only realised it as it happened. Korra had put her weight on her other elbow, grazing Asami’s chin with her hand to steady her.

 

And then she let that unnecessary hand rest light right where she had kissed her. Asami swallowed a lot besides the donut.

 

The hand didn’t move. “It’s… it’s really good,” Asami said. Her voice was all sideways. It seemed like that was the signal Korra was waiting for, and she withdrew at last, albeit in a motion so laboured that anyone would think she didn’t really want to.

 

Asami realised with a swift and paralysing jolt of the heart that she probably, possibly _didn’t_ want to. She looked down immediately.

 

She took a sip.

 

Korra said so tenderly, her own chin resting in the offending hand now, “I’m so proud of you, Asami. I love - I love seeing you get everything you deserve.”

 

Asami took another sip. She felt her mouth contort into various shapes before she replied, “That means a lot, Korra.” It did. It meant more than she wished it did, though now she wondered if she were presumptive to wish that.

 

As Korra ate, periodically feeding her more mouthfuls, she drifted easily onto other topics. Asami wished she had more to say, but she was still coming to terms with her own body, adjusting to the lightness - it felt like her world had expanded into an unforeseeable territory since this time yesterday, or even a few hours ago; and it wasn’t simply the rush of this morning levitating her…

 

Yesterday. Her train of thought snagged on Korra’s heartfelt admission - and she took it for what it was now: an admission of abiding affection, attachment. Of love. The way she had clung to her, professed her gratitude like it wasn’t _her_ that lit Asami’s every dark corner up…

 

Still all this roiled in her - it was twisting the bounds of her world and her body apart; and this new world dangled a possibility she had scarcely dared to consider before her like it was simply the logical step forward. And maybe she was letting one victory work her up, but… Every next moment seemed to fall in the favour of that possibility - dimly, she felt Korra grab her hand over the table, and her teeth ground hard.

 

“...But let’s go out to the harbour, yeah?” Korra said. Asami came back to her, at a loss. Korra’s eyes narrowed. “Are you even listening to me?”

 

She smiled sheepishly.

 

Korra only laughed however. “I was saying that everything’s on me today, but if you could just do me favour and skip the nice bars for the liquor store…”

 

Asami laughed and squeezed her hand, touched by the offer.

 

They skipped no bars, though she let Korra treat her to dinner first, after their amble downtown. Asami left the car where they had parked for the restaurant and took Korra’s arm once they had Google Mapped an enticing route through some of the establishments the city had to offer.

 

A couple of hours later, they ended up at a rooftop bar overlooking the sea. Revelers crowded in groups around the tables, leaving the balcony clear under a deep sky. Asami put down her empty cocktail glass and wrapped her hand around the steel railing, the growing chill sweeping her head into the clearest it had been in a good couple of hours.

 

Korra practically collided into the balcony next to her and sighed. “They don’t have any more guava juice.”

 

“You can get some back at the hotel,” Asami said, placatingly.

 

Korra flushed. “Oh. I just told the dude I’d make _him_ a drink if he went out and got some.” She looked embarrassed. “It’s just across the road!”

 

Asami laughed. “You’re such a piece of work!”

 

To her surprise, Korra blushed even deeper. She let out a shy little laugh that didn’t quite disguise her dismay. “I guess I shouldn’t take that as a compliment?”

 

“What?” Asami said, louder than she had intended, and she hushed herself. “No, no.” The whisper drew Korra a little closer. Well, she did tend to get a little _soft_ when she was drunk. Asami, too. “Honestly, it’s a good thing. I - I like you a little… abrasive.” She smirked. “You can yell at the neighbours for me.”

 

Korra laughed fondly and laid her head on Asami’s shoulder; but she had to lift and rearrange it when Asami pulled the sleeves of her jacket tighter around her. The wind swirled their hair together. They swayed a little on the spot. Korra took her arm after a while.

“Do you remember how to dance?”

 

Asami stiffened slightly. “N...no.”

 

“Just like… this place reminds me of Varrick’s wedding.” Korra rapped the marble of the balcony with her knuckles. “Hm?” She said again. She turned her head up to Asami and gave her a lazy smile. “Let’s see what you remember, huh?”

 

Asami groaned. “No...come on,” but Korra had torn her away from the railing before she had gotten the protest out. “‘Kay, fine. Wait.” She grabbed her glass from the table and took a decisive (almost nonexistent) final sip from it before standing up straight; and she found herself a little feeble on her feet.

 

“Come _on_ ,” Korra echoed with a totally different feeling.

 

Asami stepped on both their feet. But in fairness to her, so did Korra.

 

“It’s not working, ‘s not working…” Korra’s giggled bubbled into a full and loud laugh as their steps fell farther out of sync. Asami joined, pulling her out of the stance and into her arms with with a shake of the head that was incredibly joyful for an admission of defeat.

 

“Okay.” Korra smiled, steadying her hands against Asami’s shoulders. “Try tomorrow?”

 

They fell back against the balcony. Korra sighed contentedly as she replaced her head on Asami’s shoulder.

 

“After graduation,” she said, wiggling her head into its makeshift cushion again. “After graduation, we should take a real break. ‘Cause it’s a big deal, right? I think… let’s go abroad.”

 

Asami was silent for a long moment after Korra’s words penetrated. “It is.” She let her eyes fall close. She would be working full time next year - a real, real dream job. Not just a real job or a dream internship. School was over - the end that she had always been taught to look forward to, to make a _good_ end, finally imminent. Of its own accord her mind cast back (she didn’t have the faculties to rein it back in her current state), to everything this was meant to mean, meant to set in motion. _I’ll buy you any car,_ he father had promised, with a humour that told her it was not in jest. _And in return you could do me just one more favour, Asami, and find someone better than me to look after you_ . A kind way to acknowledge the almost _kind_ neglect that he had no doubt wished he hadn’t let befall her. A kind way to demand that she ease his guilt.

 

Well, she could buy her own car.

 

The hitch in her breath drew Korra’s attention. “Asami? So..? What d’you think?”

 

“I would love that,” she said thickly, quietly, sobering. “What… what did you have in mind?”

 

“Oh, I dunno…” Korra continued, oblivious. “I mean… I’m gonna have to travel a couple weeks on my internship. Like… August? It’s not so bad. So maybe after.” She made a sound that was like a hum softened into a sigh, before saying with a laugh, “Are you gonna miss me?”

 

Asami finally blinked the wet out of her eyes so she could roll them.

 

Korra gave a rather contemplative snort of her own and slumped further into her. “I’ll miss you.”

 

The unmistakeable thread of sincerity in the words almost made Asami wince. She didn’t sound any less sentimental when she continued a second later, heaving a sigh that carried far on the sea breeze. “We’ve really, really nearly made it, huh? Woooow.” Korra reached for Asami’s arm - they clasped their hands together, and they knocked, intertwined, against the cool metal of the balcony.

 

She chattered her teeth in a wistful laugh. “Do you remember when we hung out the very first time, you made me come to that... juice bar off campus after practice?”

 

“Um… I didn’t _make_ you.” Asami almost felt herself pout. “You just make me so impulsive, right…” She retracted her tongue in her mouth, asking herself why she had even said that last part aloud - she certainly wouldn’t have a few hours ago.

 

“Okay, so, is _that_ a compliment?” Korra inquired, laughing. “And you totally did, Asami. But’m lucky that you did.” She giggled. “I’d - I didn’t even think I would stay after school was over, when I first came here, but. I kinda have a family here, right? I don’t know...And now...”

 

 _And now?_ Asami was dying to say - and not merely _now_ but _why?_ She almost bit her tongue again before telling Korra, “Well, when you got drunk at the end of your sophomore year, you said I was your New York wife…”

 

Korra looked aghast. “You don’t like that…” She faltered, like they were having a genuine discussion on her genuine forms of address. She wasn’t quite on Earth for this conservation, Asami realised. It was devastatingly adorable in the moment.

 

“I - no,” Asami scoffed, “it’s just -” Just what? Giving you an idea? She shook her head, suppressing a wry smile. “I mean it’s funny, ‘cause you moved in with me…”

 

She didn’t mean for that to darken Korra like it did. Korra turned her eyes ahead slowly, her face resigned. “Don’t worry. When I start getting in your way…”

 

When she…? There was no way a prospect like that was upsetting her now. Surely? Then again, Korra’s mind had no more control of what came to its fore now than Asami’s did. It’s not like this was totally new, right? When Korra would joke about leaving, had Asami been too caught up in her own reflexive revulsion…

 

“You never will,” Asami said with conviction.

 

It was Korra’s turn to scoff, though the affection she felt at Asami’s assurance was evident in the very same sound. “What? You’re gonna let me mope around for… What if you meet someone? It would get really weird,” she added matter-of-factly.

 

She made that like a challenge. A taunt. Well, Asami was up to it. Like it would be fucking hard to live happily ever after with Korra. She opened her free palm in a receptive gesture. “I don’t see why you can’t stay for as long as you want.” Did she sound like she was begging? Well, screw it.

 

Korra laughed again, but her smile tightened suddenly. “You don’t wanna say that…” She really, truly shoved her face in her shoulder this time. “Oh, Asami…” She almost sounded pitiful.

 

“Why?” Asami urged. Her spine was stiff. She didn’t have a doubt in the world that Korra would produce an utterly insufficient reason why, at least in her eyes.

 

Korra’s head rose suddenly and she searched her eyes again, her breath suspended like she was waiting for the words to force themselves out of her. And like so many moments these days, she was positively tender. For a brief, stupid moment, Asami thought that she would kiss her. Then Korra’s mouth pursed, brows knitting together. There were tears in her eyes, and in a matter of moments Asami blinked back a fresh set of her own again.

 

“...’Cause, I want to stay forever.”

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are!   
> (this story is almost done. it was written over a long period with lots of gaps and little planning, + I know there are bound to be inconsistencies and disparities in detail etc. i'm planning to revise/look it over and i would love to know: what really worked, what didn't, anything you felt there could be more of, or was patchy etc. So that I can make it truly Complete and Satisfactory :D)

   
 _Of all that is shifting_  
 _And shaking my system_  
 _I know your rhythm_  
 _I know, I know, I know_  
 _That I'm the one that loves you_

◦

 

A boom of raucous laughter rose behind them. Korra jumped back, a little startled when it hit her. Asami’s gaze dropped. 

 

The moment had gone, without giving her an answer from Asami. She blinked, felt tears - how absurd. The sea wind stole back around her heart like a cold fist. Korra swallowed and breathed, but Asami squeezed her hand said, “Let’s go out. It’s quieter.”

 

For what exactly Korra wasn’t sure. She nodded, and Asami led her out of the bar by her sweaty hand. Outside the chill air helped her collect her thoughts, but she didn’t notice until Asami halted them in their path to cross the street that she was leading Korra somewhere in particular.

 

“Where are we going?” Korra said with a curious glance, noting after the fact that it was the first time she had ventured to look at Asami’s face in a good few minutes. 

 

Asami opened her mouth with a strained, soft smile, but it dropped away before she spoke. “There’s a park on the way up here. Right here…” She gestured forward with her head, drawing Korra’s gaze to an iron gate. “Should still be open…”

 

They entered, but Asami’s pace didn’t slacken as much as Korra might have expected. 

 

She sighed inwardly. 

 

Had she said too much? It was hard to tell. It was hard to tell when she was hopped up on hours of doing just nothing with just Asami, on their togetherness, drink be damned. Had this day out of a dream gotten her overexcited? 

 

The thought of the kiss she had given Asami found it an opportune moment to drop itself into head. Korra’s hand fell limp in Asami’s.

 

The last thing she wanted was to make Asami uncomfortable. But that didn’t seem right - she knew with near certainty that nothing as  _ benign  _ as some unwanted, unfortunate feelings would ever deter Asami’s warmth and tolerance. If anything, her honesty might strengthen their bond. If Korra shared the burden, maybe Asami would know what to do with it. Ease it - she was so good at that. If Asami didn’t  _ want  _ her, it wouldn’t mean she didn’t want her around. There were probably few better people to confess your affections to.

 

And if Korra wasn’t scared of losing her friendship, then what was she scared of? Hearing no?

 

She could live, she thought bitterly. But her heart quailed at the idea.

 

For all the words and touches and gestures that added fuel to her burning hope, there was still that incessant voice in her head that knocked to stop her and say,  _ how do you know? _ The truth was she didn’t know, because she struggled to comprehend evidence of what exactly the things she knew were. What she had with Asami was already a cut above the rest. There was nothing else she could draw their relationship up against to ascertain,  _ well, that’s just how friends treat you _ . (If the answer was a conclusive yes, she’d sure have some questions, though.)

 

It was hard to imagine that she was imagining it all when Asami had still not let go of her hand. She squeezed their handhold almost involuntarily and thought she felt Asami’s head turn her way an almost undetectable amount. Korra kept her eyes ahead, and to her luck she found something worth mentioning over there. She didn’t want this silence to stretch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, because theirs hardly ever were, but it was giving her mind too much room to run wild. 

 

“Looks like there’s a stream up there,” she commented, squinting at the distance. Asami said nothing, to her dismay, but she followed her gaze. 

 

Korra didn’t want things to change… much. 

 

She didn’t want Asami to stop coming home to her. She didn’t want her to stop checking in on her, or going out with her, or any of the hundred things they already did. She wanted  _ this _ , she told herself, just… without an end date; with more - intimacy (if that was a suitable way to put it); without either of them seeing anybody else. When you put it that way, that wasn’t such an unreasonable ask at all, was it…?

 

But that was a silly comfort - a disservice to the depth and clarity of her own feelings, whatever anyone else might have made of them. The thing was that when you put it another way it became infinitely more weighty: she wanted to be everything to Asami. That was the scenario her minor changes made. 

 

It made it difficult - the fact that they already shared so much that it seemed almost senseless not to try for a little more. That this fact was commensurate to, and, paradoxically, inextricable from the other one: that they already shared so much that Korra had almost everything to lose. Maybe her feelings wouldn’t put  _ Asami  _ off, but Korra was starting to realise that  _ she  _ couldn’t hear no and still come home to Asami. If only she had anywhere else to go.

 

She had every reason to believe that Asami loved her. Not like  _ that _ , perhaps, but enough that Korra almost wondered if it might only need the right push on her part to become a love like that. Asami liked women, even if she didn’t talk about it much. And if Asami liked women, and loved Korra, and wanted to stay with her, then… 

 

Wait. This equation didn’t end how it was supposed to. If those things did tally to what she hoped they could, then Asami surely would have told her something in… what? Over three years? 

 

It sent a wave of regret through Korra that still didn’t manage to wash out the nervous hope. Or the heaviness of Asami’s hand in hers. 

 

Well, there was one way to know. 

 

Korra let herself imagine. She could be a good girlfriend. For some reason her own conviction of the notion made it feel like tears were about to spring from her eyes. She really believed it. She could be that, for Asami; she could share as much of her time and space as necessary. Sure, Korra could be a little abrasive (but Asami said she liked that, didn’t she?), and she was definitely prone to being impulsive (actually, Asami liked that  _ too _ ) - but she knew and loved every part of her. More deeply than anyone on earth, she’d be happy to wager - and failing that, she’d be happy to fight for the honour, too. 

 

In fact, she  _ had  _ been that for her. She had proof - nearly a year of it. If only that reality alone  could merit her a shot. It would be nothing but ugly to suggest that Asami should afford her one simply because Korra thought they were soulmates of some kind.

 

They were, though. 

 

The river came into view, much greater than a stream, and Korra’s senses fell back into her surroundings as she found her feet on a slow incline up to the bridge that crossed it. It curved slightly, beautifully carved, and was bookended by two tall lamps. It reminded Korra of Bow Bridge in Central Park. 

 

“So… I actually know about this place...” 

 

She turned at the gentle voice. Asami’s fond eyes locked to hers like two knives in her heart. “‘Cause my parents came here once, when they were on business. There’s a photo. It’s supposed to be nice at night.” She glanced about to emphasise her point. Dark had fallen deep. The water twinkled and the whole place was bathed in the gentle glow of the moon.

 

Korra looked around for a moment, breathing the air deep, before she realised that Asami probably expected a reply at such a revelation. She was a second late, evidently, because Asami said quietly, “Are you alright?”

 

“What? Yeah,” Korra rushed to assure her. She turned back up to Asami’s face. “It’s beautiful here.”

 

“Oh, well, I thought you would like it.” Still quiet, but with a smile. She rolled her shoulders. “I know you love a good body of water.” Korra scoffed. The words left her awash in warmth and she couldn’t help but return the smile. Asami was perfect to her, and that wasn’t (just) what Korra happened to make of her - she was perfect  _ for  _ her. She had to know that. 

 

She would know that -

 

Whatever manner it made it out in - and not because Korra could hardly hold it in, but because she deserved to know. 

 

“I just wanted to come here… I mean, we should probably get back soon if we want a hope of getting up in time to check out in the morning but - since you said we could do  _ whatever  _ I want,” Asami finished, eyes lowering.

 

Korra laughed. She tried to chastise herself for wondering if there was anything else Asami wanted to do. Now that was just projecting. 

 

The bridge was low. Korra brushed the wide edge off and pushed herself up onto it with her hands. Okay, maybe not  _ that  _ low - she grunted as she struggled for purchase, her embarrassment eliciting a playfully scathing laugh from Asami. “Don’t laugh,” Korra warned, also laughing. When she had made it her hands reached out almost involuntarily for Asami. 

 

It wasn’t until she saw Asami hesitate that she noticed that it might have been an unexpected gesture. Asami came anyway. 

 

“So you had a good day?” Korra said, desperate to move on from her potential misstep. And then she couldn’t help herself, though her next words came clothed in a tease like a reflexive act of self-preservation. “And there’s  _ nothing  _ else…?” She held fast though, refused to mentally kick herself.

 

Asami blinked. Korra could see the cogs in her head turn and then turn faster, though the only change in her face she saw was behind her eyes.

 

She gave Asami’s scarf a gentle tug, urging her forward, until Korra’s knees had fit either side of her where she settled. Was this too close? (Well, Korra thought, casting back to the morning, if sleeping half in her lap wasn’t too close…)

 

The scarf had come loose from where Asami had coiled it carefully over her blazer in anticipation of an evening chill; and Korra untucked it to pull it back around her shoulders with the utmost care; two warm billowing turns, the tiny tassels flying up against Asami’s jaw. She took her time, smoothed the fleecy fabric, dragged a nail across it delicate enough to feel the microscopic weaves. Left her fingers tucked in the creases that were tucked against Asami’s neck.

 

And all the while Asami was looking.

 

“What do you want? Hm? Any- anything.”

 

Korra meant it. She meant in the softest way possible. And still felt like she was daring her.

 

Asami was looking. Her eyes and her face and her arms at her side remained still whilst the wind urged gently into her; clean, playing soft in the tendrils of her hair and the tassels of her scarf. Like it was savouring the privilege. Korra’s hands were obscenely steady for how fast her mind was tunnelling - with every second she forgot another potential answer, until she had forgotten every one that wasn’t the one she wanted to hear - and it felt like there was nothing else that could possibly come out of Asami’s mouth.

 

The slope of her jaw had finally tightened, though. And Asami - she didn’t like to push her luck.

 

Her mouth opened barely, and Korra’s own followed in breathless anticipation, but she only released a slip of breath. It warmed the air and then it was gone. Before Korra felt the last of it fizz away, Asami spoke.

 

“Well…” 

 

Well? Korra drew a finger down between a fold of her scarf, and it finished a light clasp, something she could will her anxious hope into. Asami smiled a very gentle smile, though Korra could see her make the conscious effort to keep her brows unfurrowed. Her voice came out like it could have used a little cough, laced with a delicate wistfulness. Korra’s clasp tightened. “I already…” Asami did clear her throat then, as her breath swelled heavy under it. “I already have you.” Her brow arched. “Don’t I?”

 

It was everything Korra wanted to hear, and still not the one thing she wanted to hear  _ now _ . Because she knew that Asami knew what she meant. The plummet in her chest could not steal her smile - Korra tilted her neck, shook her head and Asami gently at once, by the fabric draped over her slim shoulders. “Oh, alright,” she said, not sounding quite as fine she meant to (as ever), not able to hide the note of dismay. “Gross,” she added playfully, finding Asami’s shiny gaze with mock disdain in her own.

 

But she pulled her in, anyway, because Asami looked unsure. Korra wrapped her arms around her and she fell lightly and without resistance against her, head laid against Korra’s shoulder. Korra wished her heart wouldn’t beat so hard.

 

It wasn’t often that she could hold her like this, naturally given that Asami was the one who had a few inches on her when they stood or sat - even though Korra thought about it exponentially; at least twice since she had propped herself into this position, if she was honest; and the fact she could even recall that was just another tonne on the anvil. She cursed herself. 

 

So maybe that had been too far. Selfish. The hopeful yearning that had incited this opportunistic little experiment quite paled now next to the prospect of Asami seeing her differently all of a sudden. No doubt Asami had taken her point without trouble; and it looked like it had unbalanced her. And if it was so, that would sure explain this, because Korra was starting to wonder - wonder why Asami would not let go and… If there  _ was  _ a chance that something was going to have shifted, and forever, and irreparably, then… She wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go, either. 

 

She exhaled loudly, very conspicuously. Asami shifted against her in response, but Korra tightened her arms incrementally, squeezing her eyes shut. Asami didn’t move again. Her hands remained a warm, wide brace at the dip of Korra’s back, leaving goosebumps through her jacket. If she released her now Korra didn’t know in what manner she might reinitiate the embrace. So she held on.

 

For a minute or two nothing save the wind and water moved. 

 

The sky was blue black. The lights dotting the view twinkled warmly - Asami was right, it was was pretty here at night. The wind was gentler than before, but the temperature was falling. The lean Asami had made into her was a little more taut for the chill in the air. Korra stroked with the hand against her back - she meant to let the friction warm her, but she was being too slow, too tender, too fucking transparent for that; and if it was too late anyway, then she may as well comb this hand through her cool, silky hair - 

 

She had a couple of fingers light in the tuft behind her ear when Asami drew away, all of her altogether; and she slipped about a foot across the railing to Korra’s right, with a tight, delicate smile.

 

Korra imagined the one she now graced her own feet with was very similar. Probably more anxious, because she still didn’t know what Asami was making of it all in her beautiful head. Korra didn’t look, but she heard her inhale the clear air, imagined her leaning over the railing with the moonlight in her hair. Then she couldn’t help but throw her a glance and that image dissipated away to one too lovely, obviously, for her frantic mind to have conceived. Only the clench of Asami’s fingers on the wood belied something that wasn’t calm. Korra saw the glint of the light on the water in her deep eyes, one reflection after another in perfect turn to create such a heavenly image. 

 

“Hey,” Korra said quietly, not hearing herself until she had already spoken. When Asami turned her head she was presented with Korra’s outstretched hand on the railing though she avoided her gaze. And she took it, though Korra thought she felt a faint tremor as she did. And she held very tight, like Korra might never hold her hand again. 

 

Asami up looked her way suddenly. Korra could tell she hadn’t meant to catch her eye because she made a soft sound, half-sigh, half-laugh, full of agitated wonder. 

 

And suddenly Korra knew she had gone the opposite of too far. Selfish. 

 

Because  _ what do you want  _ was (ironically) a self-serving question here; a way for Korra to kick the ball out of her court ever so innocently and see if Asami might pave the way for her. Which was gutless, which was not what Asami deserved, especially if she - and as she searched her face now Korra was  _ almost  _ sure that she did - if she harboured any similar hope or desire. 

 

If Asami didn’t like pushing her luck - and Korra understood why, and it made her heart ache like nothing else - she wouldn’t have to. If Korra had a hope in hell of proving her feelings to Asami - she had to be  _ owning  _ them. 

 

Asami’s head cocked as she waited for Korra to continue, her expression betraying that she was at her mercy, though Korra got the feeling that she was trying and failing to make it appear otherwise.

 

Looking at that face felt like imploding. 

 

Korra steeled herself. The dread of being denied was a small thing compared to her love. It really was.

 

“I never,” she started, before anything else could get the best of her. Asami met her gaze again, eager, wide-eyed - and the words caught in Korra’s throat. She retrieved them with resolution; she had to finish what she started. “I never feel scared about...” She was doing so well, and Asami was looking  _ so  _ \- Korra beckoned her forward, pulling her back to her, so her frame was slotted back between Korra’s knees. 

 

“I never feel scared to tell you anything. And, look, that’s not going to change -” She placed her hand into the cosy mess of fabric at Asami’s shoulder, met her eyes so full of feeling that for a brief second Korra’s every fear was put to rest - and of course  _ Asami  _ was the one giving her the comfort to… talk to Asami. (She nearly smiled, because it sounded so damned stupid, unless you put  _ her  _ in the equation.)

 

“So you should know that you’re - you’re totally right....” Her heart was violent in her chest; it was a wonder her words made it past it to her throat. Her head dropped incrementally, like a final touch from her burden before she relieved it - and in the very moment she said, “Y-you do have me,” a gentle, cool hand found her chin, redirected her gaze.

 

“Like,  _ completely _ ,” she blinked and whispered. Her following breath was all but a gasp. “I can’t help how much...” She shook her head and fortified her grip in disbelief, wondering if the lump in her throat was going to abate; and the emphatic  _ no! _ resounded when she focused on her face again. The weight of her head fell into that gentle palm. “How much I care about you -” 

 

Korra stopped and looked; looked at Asami looking at her - rigid, and yet with a world swimming behind her eyes - and she had a microsecond more to scramble for her redundant words.

 

Then Asami kissed her. 

 

The shock delayed Korra’s response, though her hand managed an instinctive grasp on Asami’s wrist where she cupped her face. The pure sensation had barely caught up to her when the mouth on hers loosened - Korra hardly kissed her back in time. Asami drew backward, drawing Korra, bereft, forward with her; and she opened her eyes, breathing hard. Her head reeled.

 

They regarded each other for a moment - Asami’s face colored in shock or stupor. It calmed with an unsteady blink or two as the desire welled indescribable in Korra. Another blink or two, and then -  

 

They reached for one another together. Scant millimetres to cross, and when she met Asami’s lips this time, Korra’s hand drove through her hair, gripping the slope of her neck hard. 

 

Their kiss was slow for its desperation. Parting, closing, one, two, three, four times - however many… And her heart expanded in the cage of her body with each one, until Korra was  _ wired _ . She pressed Asami to her with a curled leg, squeezing with the hand she had slipped around her waist. She was intoxicating. Warm, fragrant skin, soft as snow - the softest lips she had ever kissed. Every bone ached for her.

 

Slowly with the seconds, Korra recovered enough command of her faculties to absorb every sensation in detail, and she did so devoutly. The hand on her own back stroked as tenderly as the one that held her face - a breathtaking contrast to the ardour with which Asami deepened their kiss. It was very…  _ predictable  _ was a terrible description, but was there any doubt in the world that Asami would kiss this way? So lovingly? Fresh affection rushed at the thought and Korra let slip a helpless sound, of pure love as much as craving; but Asami laid a hand below her neck and broke the kiss. 

 

Then Korra’s kisses landed against her cheek and hair, because Asami was nestling into her. She felt a shaky sigh against her neck. The vibration compelled her to hold her tight - and this, she was familiar with, even if her mouth ached with new memory - familiar enough that it took her by surprise when Asami squeezed her harder than she ever,  _ ever  _ had. Korra realised she wasn’t trembling from the cold.

 

She buried her face in her hair.

 

It took a good minute for either of them to surface from the other. Asami replaced the hand on Korra’s cheek before combing a couple of fingers through her hair, behind her ear. Korra’s eyes closed at the touch and her breath hitched. Then at last she opened them onto the face of her favourite friend.

 

“Hi,” Asami mouthed.

 

Korra kissed the mouth lightning-quick before echoing it, and then they were both huffing quiet and breathless little laughs. But Asami sobered almost immediately. She let her forehead meet Korra’s with a little dip forward. “Korra…”

 

There was a trace of hesitation in something about the word, but when Korra cleared her throat quietly and said, “Hm?” Asami only kissed her again, light and sweet. She didn’t expect it; her chest nearly floated up through her head. 

 

It was hard not to kiss her again, but their lips remained easy and tempered. It was hard to believe she was even kissing Asami, and that Asami was even so perfect, that it was like she had to prove it again every time her lips left hers. Well, no rush.

 

Finally, Asami turned her face away. She took Korra’s hand from her shoulder and gripped it tight. When she met her eyes again, they were darker. “Please, we should…” She spoke as if to something ephemeral, soft and imploring. It only made Korra want to kiss her again, but the tentative concern in her voice overpowered that compulsion. “I think we should talk.”

 

Right. Talk. Korra nodded and sighed, hoped and prayed. The way she had just  _ caressed  _ her... It wouldn’t be for no reason that Asami had pulled away from their… whatever. Maybe Asami just wanted to kiss, and not transmit any accidental misunderstandings through such activities. Maybe she was afraid, like Korra, because she wanted so much more than that.

 

Korra blew out a breath, prepared to both dish and take utter honesty.

 

“I guess,” Asami all but whispered, a thumb across Korra’s collarbones. “I guess this is okay?” Korra took a moment to catch her drift. “I kissed you,” Asami prompted, her vocal chords encountering some difficulty on those words.

 

“Of course,” Korra whispered. What was she talking about? She smiled in mild confusion before raising her brow. “Well, I mean, I guess you didn’t have to interrupt me. So there’s that…”

 

Asami’s smile reached her eyes this time. She looked curiously hopeful. “And what did you want to...?”

 

Korra heaved a light sigh. “I was saying that...” She was touched when Asami brought the hand in her own to her lips, a gesture of such devotion that it only really muddled her words. That must have been the opposite of her intention. Oh, Asami. She had no idea what effect she had on her. 

 

Korra tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, before the brushing the curve of it with her thumb. “Well, thank you for making it easier to say…” The trepidation she had felt before escaped with a timid laugh. “I know that you know that you’re just… the most wonderful - my  _ best  _ friend. But I really, really care about you.” Korra glanced at her eyes; she had her rapt. 

 

“I know.” 

 

That spurred her, for some reason. “No, you don’t,” Korra said, shaking her head. “You don’t know how much you mean to me, Asami. And I don’t just mean because I - because I have feelings for you -”

 

Asami had snatched her other hand, and she drew it down to meet the first. Her jaw tightened as she inhaled a harsh breath that wouldn’t seem to fit in her mouth, chin keening into the hands she had clamped in her own.

 

“I mean, obviously it  _ is  _ that,” Korra amended, feeling her face burn. “It is. But it’s not just that, ‘cause, actually, I can’t even separate it from…  _ everything  _ else.” She studied Asami, and her eyes were blurring. 

 

Her hands were tense in Asami’s, and even though today was the first day she had kissed them, Korra thought of every time and every way she had held those hands. She found her face, open and gleaming and full of earnest attention. Warmer than her kiss. It wasn’t that even Korra couldn’t remember how to be without her. It was that she could, and it repelled her. 

 

She knew no life at all without Asami. 

 

“I wish you knew how precious you are.” It felt like the most honest thing she had said all day. “You are. You are the most important person in my world.” A beat and the her gaze dropped.

 

Asami released a shuddering breath, as she brought both of Korra’s hands to her mouth. She sniffed quietly; Korra heard her swallow so that she could murmur, barely audible, “Look at me.”

 

Korra did. Asami alternated her hands, pressing kisses both gentle and at once urgent, and then she almost bit down against one so her tears wouldn’t leak. Her eyelids pressed and crinkled. “Korra.” She had said her next words before, said them louder and stronger - but not  _ really,  _ not till now. There wasn’t a drop of doubt what she meant. 

 

“I love you, Korra.” 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! you'll probably see an epilogue once this all has been tidied up! bye!  
> <3 <3 <3

 

 _Compass points you home_  
_Calling out from the east_  
_Compass points you anywhere_  
_Closer to me_

◦

 

It was helpless, the way the words gushed out of her mouth. It was releasing the longest breath she had ever held. But Asami wouldn’t have stopped them if she could.

 

Maybe they’d have been words better left to a sensible, sit-down heart to heart at home, comfortable and serious and indoors and everything that a considerately dropped bombshell should be. Maybe she should have said _we should get going_ instead. She wasn’t sure if she expected Korra to say it back or not.

 

She wasn’t sure she would survive either outcome.

 

The barest gasp, more like a breath.

 

And Korra kissed her hard.

 

Around Korra’s, her hands had been trembling. She released one and reached up shakily the moment she realised Korra had bent to kiss her again. Asami was still trying not to cry. Kissing helped. Kissing made her dizzy and mad and soft. Her heart pumped for life.

 

Where did _I love you_ leave things? Was that okay? She couldn’t help the question.

 

The mouth on her mouth, the hand still clutched in hers, didn’t even say _yes,_ weren’t coherent enough in their fervent touch for that - Korra’s body, it simply screamed its exhilaration; the fingers back in her hair, the chest full, rising, beating hard against her own, until she dragged herself away finally and said -

 

“ _Asami,_ ” like there was nothing else that could stand to come to mind. She blinked once, grasping her by the shoulder. There was an exhale that wobbled with intensity, and not from the ferocity of that kiss - not from Asami’s lips but her words.

 

Korra’s eyes couldn’t be wider, as she cupped her face and nodded eagerly. “Really?”

 

But she looked like she believed Asami, no sooner than she had asked. Her own breathless question quite unnecessary; simply a relief of emotion, of whatever Asami’s admission had sparked.

 

Korra bit her lip, slow, and smiled a glorious smile. It was no less incredible than all the words she had been saying. Asami nearly left her body.

 

“I love _you,_ ” Korra whispered, confident.

 

Almost _incredulous_. More happy resignation than confession - she slumped and blushed, and Asami could read her, the way her eyes shone with adoration: _I love you in so many ways I can’t keep them straight anymore._ Like she was saying, _I don’t want to._

 

Asami cried. And when she saw the brief disquiet on Korra’s face, she laughed. She took Korra’s face in her hands this time, before she could do the same to Asami. Korra held her hands, then hips, and pulled her into her arms.

 

For the first time in a lifetime, Asami truly _sunk_ into Korra’s embrace; not a speck of apprehension, not a guilty bone, anxious atom.

 

Korra shared her bashful laughter; pure pleasure. Then she rested her face against her, cheek to cheek and breathed. “I love you,” she repeated calmly, like she had been processing that same thought this entire time.

 

So much to tell her, and nothing to say, for the moment. What else was there? Korra _loved_ her. Her chest felt heavy, pleasant heavy. Her ribs were straining to contain her rapture.

 

Asami pulled back after a moment, smiling like Korra had whispered a joke in her ear. “We should get going.” She said the words a lot more brightly than she had imagined them a moment ago. 

 

A slow walk, a happy walk, that was actually faster than Asami remembered thanks to the cold. But every second of it stretched and pulsed with her new unexpected reality, the dark night vibrant. Korra held onto her hand, and Asami thought about intertwining their fingers, about how it was something she could do.

 

The world continued to turn.

 

“And I wanna go to bed for a day, even though _I_ haven’t done shit today...” Korra was saying as they entered the suite - everything the same as ever and different - and pulled their shoes off.

 

Asami gave her a small smile as she wound her scarf around her hand. “Hey, two daiquiris aren’t _nothing_ for you...” Her feet ached from their self-imposed walking tour, but it was hard to distinguish from the thrum that seemed to pervade her whole body.

 

Different. Korra reached for her tentatively, curling her legs up onto the bed. She swallowed as she placed a hand where the edge of Asami’s collar was, and simply gazed. Once they fell backward, she smoothed her hands over her arms, tucked a foot around her ankle. Her eyes darkened. They kissed long.

 

The scent of Korra; heavy, sweet breaths blotting the silence. A sigh or two cut short that made Asami’s own breath catch; hand sticky-warm against her stomach when their tension rose. A peck cute and chaste as it ebbed.

 

Presently, Korra smiled so hard into a kiss that she had to pull away. Asami released her. Korra scratched through the lock of hair behind her ear, and murmured, “You’re a good kisser.”

 

She shouldn’t have expected better. Asami blinked, pursing her mouth, before a shy smile broke through. “You just haven’t kissed anyone in like, years,” she retorted. Korra pouted at the exaggeration. Asami shuffled closer, taking her hand off the hot skin above Korra’s waistband and laying it between them.

 

The lights remained off, the small room defined surprisingly well by the strain of moonlight from the open window. Korra slipped her fingers around Asami’s wrist. A draught swept through and she inched even closer to Asami in reaction, with a coy, silvery laugh, until they were nose to nose. Her eyes were large and glossy in the semi-darkness.

 

Asami blinked again, into them. “Best weekend ever.”

 

Korra gave her an affectionate shove. “Thank you,” she said after a short pause, laughing sheepishly when Asami’s brow furrowed. “For kissing me, I mean. Shutting me the hell up!” She said that like Asami had meant it like a tactical move, and not simply… overflowed.

 

“But I really…” Asami began softly, licking along the inside of her lip. “I really appreciate the things… what you were saying.” Her voice shrunk, practically channeling Korra’s focus onto it - she could see it in her sobering eyes.

 

And Korra was sober. Her grip tightened.

 

“I’ve never had anyone like you,” she said.

 

Oh.

 

“Oh.” Asami licked her lips. She forced herself to meet Korra’s eyes. “Me neither. Really.” She spoke evenly, if quietly, and squeezed Korra’s hand. “Really, Korra.”

 

There was something almost liberating about saying the words - they felt like more of a confession than _I love you_ , in some way. So there. Now she was bare.

 

Something galvanising, too; fever passion. Because it wasn’t scary, or strange, or treacherous, this admission that made her indisputably vulnerable. Not with Korra. A luminous tenderness rose in her throat.

 

Korra reached for her in the same moment. Asami buried her face in Korra’s shoulder, and she felt Korra press deep into her own neck. Her cosy, warm limbs were tight around her again, leg sliding over Asami’s thigh in the very same position as this morning. An age ago.

 

Now there was no space between them. Korra was a divine thing to melt into.

 

When Korra drew her head back, the rest of her stayed snug in place. Asami scooped the side of her face close, grazing her fingers across her hairline, pulling the wisps of her bangs between her fingers. Korra’s eyes closed at the touch.

 

“What’s the time? We should sleep,” she said shortly, smiling with her eyes still closed.

 

Asami didn’t think she could sleep tonight. She didn’t even think she could extract herself to go look at her phone.

 

Korra seemed to understand, on both accounts. “It’s okay,” she said, resettling her leg, “It’s not like I’m gonna get enough sleep anyway.”

 

She was wide awake when she opened her eyes again - moon eyes. Asami appeared to have kindled something behind them today. Korra wriggled an arm out from their tangle of limbs and rubbed her eye. “I think we should just drive back now,” she said. “You love driving at night.”

 

“You want me to drive you down an interstate hopped up on like four hours of alcohol?” Asami said lightly.

 

Korra rolled her eyes, but she was beat. It was endearing, not to mention incredibly satisfying. “ _No._ No - okay, fine. A couple of hours.” She squeezed Asami, a little too hard. No one minded. “And I’ll make sure you’re awake, don’t worry.”

 

Asami faintly wondered how, and it made her feel slightly faint with anticipation, until Korra lifted her chin lazily in the direction of the mini fridge. “There’s a ton of soda left that we’re at least taking with us,” she murmured.

 

“In a bit,” Asami replied, a sentiment that became reflected immediately in Korra’s face. Neither was rushing to leave this little nest.

 

The draught was quite relaxing now; the cool whisper against the back of her calf where her pant leg had ridden up, the warm touch of Korra’s leg against the front a heavenly complement. Asami let her eyes drift shut and thought about what normal things the next day held in store, whether this surreal evening would be intact in the morning, if she would awake having dreamt it all.

 

But morning was mere hours away. And here she still was, Korra’s fingers sweeping serenely through her hair - a gentle, hesitant fingertip on her eyelid, across her brow bone. She was awake, and if she drifted away, she would only float back ashore to this. So she let herself drift...

 

“You’re so pretty,” Korra interrupted. Though very sweetly, and hoarsely.

 

Asami’s eyelids fluttered as she swam back to wakefulness. “Hm?” She was about to (struggle to) explain that whatever she was, it was Korra that was wholly incomparable - but the sheer effect the simple statement had on her kept her body captive. She burned, and her own sudden demureness embarrassed her more than anything. It was nothing Korra hadn’t said before. Except now she was caressing Asami - now she knew that it meant not just that she wanted her to feel beautiful.

 

But that she wanted her.

 

Asami might nearly have said those very words in reply, if she could untie her tongue.

 

She had never _let_ Korra’s compliments mean that before. And this feeling, utterly new, made her weak. She collected her stomach and prodded Korra’s nose with her thumb, smiling.

 

“So are you. You’re beautiful,” she said. Breath shallow.

 

Korra glowed. “Seriously, Asami. Like if I could even begin to explain how hot-”

 

Asami cut her off with a dismissive snort. No, they were not doing this.

 

She pulled Korra forward into her instead, propping herself up over her and sweeping her own hair out of Korra’s face to kiss her. Korra met her with an impish smile, like she’d been waiting for this particular attention - not a bad ploy on her part. Asami didn’t care. She kissed her cheek, her jaw, nudged her mouth in the soft space below her ear. Korra made a breathless sound, a ghost of a sigh, coiled the hand she had against Asami’s chest - but if she thought _she_ was feeling especially privileged -

 

“You’re beautiful - _perfect,_ ” Asami practically bit out, hard and low in a way that almost made her voice waver. She kissed her deeply, nuzzled her there, inhaled, kissed her hair. Absorbed. The thrilled pushed itself into her fists and she found both of Korra’s hands and squeezed. And she couldn’t help but sigh.

 

Korra’s quick fingers, once extricated, traveled up her sides before gathering up her face, ever so tenderly. She ran her thumbs across Asami’s cheekbones. “Kiss me again,” she whispered, the words hitching when Asami feathered the dip of her collarbone with her fingers.

 

Korra took the lead as soon as Asami had fulfilled her request. Asami wondered if it would ever be possible to tire of kissing her. This time, Korra stroked her shoulder blade; a gentle scratching rhythm that moved inward to her neck - a familiar touch that she had never received in this place. Her mind explored as her body fell deeper into sensation - what else was she going to discover? How else were the hands she knew going to touch her - the voice she knew sound… Korra’s ankles locked around her calves, pushing her knee into the sheets, and Asami imagined her suddenly, warm like this, in her very own bed - or maybe _hers_ (in the house she shared with _her)_ , she didn’t mind -

 

It was electrifying either way. A shot of intense desire that Asami relieved without deliberation in a wet, sweet kiss against her ear. Korra laughed and wiggled away, matching Asami’s preemptive grin.

 

“You don’t like that?” She snickered. Korra giggled, too, grumbling her dissent, trying to push her mouth against Asami’s face instead. Asami evaded her with a teasing smile, before giving in with a decadent shiver of a kiss that would probably have made her a little nauseated if she wasn’t the one lying on top of Korra. (She couldn’t find a fuck to give.) “Yeah, I didn’t imagine you would…”

 

Instantly, Korra was silky; her turn to tease. “Oh, you _imagined,_ huh...?”

 

Asami meant to laugh her little taunt off, not take the bait, but then the words registered and she blushed. “I…” Korra was being playful, but… Maybe she had done a great deal of that. And, well, she was used to keeping her secret, to the idea that it was the kind of thing that needed keeping. “Maybe,” Asami said, but the flirtation wasn’t in her voice.

 

Now Korra was listening, her eyes turning soft. Soft and curious.

 

“I don’t know. I do think about you a lot,” Asami admitted, her gaze falling to the patch of bed next to Korra’s head. “So...” She huffed, searching; the hint of a confessional smile. She was adjusting to not hiding, unlearning what she thought was a skill for life (don’t make it weird with Korra), but this was all very new. She knew what Korra wanted to ask: how long? How... much?

 

Korra released a particularly audible exhale. She touched the corner of Asami’s temple; a short, shy stroke. Then, to Asami’s surprise, she said quietly, “I think about you, too. All the time.”

 

A pause that filled with colour.

 

“Is that…? I don’t know how that makes you -”

 

Asami merely stared. It made her whole world new - that’s what it did. She inhaled deeply, planted a kiss heavy with affection by Korra’s mouth, holding it long. Then she dug her elbow in the mattress and maneuvered onto her back, processing. At a touch she bent her head to rest against Korra’s shoulder.

 

Korra gave a contented stretch beside her.

 

“It feels so good to tell you all this,” she said, sounding it.

 

“You’re telling me,” Asami returned, gaze flicking up to her. She considered the ceiling for a generous moment, hands on her stomach. “But Korra, I’ve always... cared about you. You’ve gotta know that,” she continued fondly, by way of explanation, measuring her words and trying not to betray it. This did feel good.

 

“I know _that._ Point being, that’s all I knew,” Korra said laughingly. Asami wondered if that wry laugh meant Korra could preempt her next reflection.

 

“Well, I’m glad you knew something," Asami said sincerely. "Bur you know, I didn’t even know that you were into girls. I figured you’d tell _me_ if -”

 

“Neither did I!” Korra spluttered. They both laughed heartily at that, and the sudden clarity made it funnier than it was; a slow-dawning fit that left them giddy with emotion.

 

But that, wow, it was the ultimate tribute, and Asami was on air. To know that the primary complication she had always imagined - hadn’t somehow never existed, but that _she_ had simply vanished it. Her toes curled. She felt more grateful, more special than she could hope to deserve; just inexplicably, ecstatically lucky. All that Korra had told her she meant - it made those notions vivid. She believed them. She stole a glance at Korra, who looked a little sleepier now: blinking easy, tugging the blanket over her legs.

 

Another cuddle was in order. And when Korra fell asleep in her arms, Asami would reserve the  liberty of holding on to her.

 

They awoke on the amount of sleep that made you wish for death, or that’s what Asami wished for until she found Korra heaped on her shoulder. They were practically chest to chest. She made the little stretch necessary to kiss the top of her head.

 

Then she allowed herself to enjoy. The kind of moment that she always coveted, out of her wildest, sweetest, sincerely simplest dreams.

 

Not a dream.

 

Korra wouldn’t wake easy. Maybe finding Asami here would ease it? The thought itself felt foreign, foolish, except now it was none of those things, which was a whole wonder of its own. Asami caught herself, her breath.

 

“Korra,” she called. She swept the hair across Korra’s forehead and tucked it behind her ears - a touch that would always help her acclimatise to waking, when she was injured or sick. Now she was neither, though maybe she would be a bit cranky, and Asami had and needed no excuse save that she would and she could and she loved her -

 

Korra licked her dry lips and grimaced. She nosed Asami’s shoulder and the cadence of her sleep breathing resumed as soon as it had hitched.

 

“Hey, you wanted to drive at dawn,” Asami said, speaking softly. “Korra?”

 

The reminder seemed to stir something in her. She stilled, emerged out of the shoulder again, dark lashes fluttering. “Oh, woah,” she muttered cutely, when she found Asami’s mouth against her brow again. Asami could almost feel her memory unreel. And then Korra was fully awake, and buried in her neck.

 

She relished the surprise of the sensation.

 

“I love this,” Korra said, muffled. And then, “It’s so fucking early.”

 

Two obvious statements. Asami pulled the covers down, though her arm curled around Korra despite herself. “Come on, I liked your idea,” she coaxed. “Let’s get on the road before the sun rises. And we said we’d get Naga back before noon, remember? Have to get gas as well,” she continued, rubbing her back.

 

Korra finally rolled away. “Oh, Naga,” she yawned, letting out a single laugh once she had stretched. “Gotta ease her in, okay? No kissing - she might get too excited, run the house down.” She picked at the corner of her eye. “‘Cause I swear, she wants us to get married.”

 

Asami snorted, “Poor girl.” Though this conversation at Naga’s expense was making her tingle down to her toes.

 

Korra turned her head to look at her properly. “She just doesn’t want to have to leave you.” She sniffed and smiled, cocking her head. “Relatable.”

 

“You never have to.” Asami shook her head, repeating her words from yesterday evening. They bore repeating - bore their full weight, without inhibition or disguise, after the events of the night. “Neither of you.”

 

Korra rolled back to her a aways, and Asami pulled her to her by the hand. Chest to chest.

 

Some birds chirped outside, no seagulls (yet), to Asami’s relief. The early, early morning still serene - shushing the stage for their silent understanding. Words were long redundant for this agreement.

 

_You belong with me._

 

Korra took her hand, pushed an affectionate thumb across the skin of her knuckles. “Let’s go home.”

 

Asami nodded. “Let’s go home.”

 

-

 

“ _Why_ is it so bright? Uff,” Korra sighed, yawning as she shielded her eyes. The shades on the windshield were hopeless. _8.13,_ Asami read on the dash, and she was still yawning. It had been 5am when they left, all freshened up and fed.

 

Korra took a rather irate bite out of her cereal bar. “Oh, I just wanna sleep. Are you gonna sleep with me when we get home, Asami?” She said soberly, managing to lighten her own mood.

 

She was such a tease. Asami gave her a look, rubbing her chin with the hand not on the wheel, stifling a laugh. She hoped it didn’t look like she was thinking too hard about that comment. She knew with stunning certainty that without the space necessitated by the act of driving she would be kissing Korra.

 

An incredible thing to know.

 

They were already on the junction into the city. Traffic was light - Sunday, pre-rush hour.

 

“I wish I could have got something from the bar before checkout,” Korra said wistfully. Her tired eyes still glinted with a sedate thrill as she stretched, knocking her hand into the window by accident. “Ease the pain…”

 

Asami waited until she had made the imminent turn to reply. “We should have got the honeymoon package. Free wine. Could have had a night in,” she arched her brow and suggested. “Just tell them we had a solid academic victory to celebrate. I bet I could sweet talk them.”

 

Korra laughed fondly. “You wish. I don’t think they let friends do that.”

 

Asami bit her lip, both hands on the steering wheel. “Okay,” she said tentatively. “What about girlfriends?”

 

She sensed Korra register, just for a brief second; she scrunched the wrapper of her bar in her hand. Asami watched for her reaction, unable to help her heartfelt smile.

 

Korra’s face lit up, brighter than the sunrise. “God, I'd hope so.”

 

Asami laughed out of sheer joy, and Korra dropped her water bottle so she could squeeze the hand she had extended in both of her own. Best weekend _ever._

 

She wondered if it would stay this sunny all day, wishing she could stretch her legs properly in her seat. It had been a long night. Here they were though, at last. She nearly speeded past the cafe she had loved last last summer, past the neighbour on the right, who they had left Naga with. She caught Korra’s hundredth yawn as she clicked the garage door open.

 

As Asami parked, she scrolled through the checklist in her head like it was one of those twenty-item conference schedules. She had to physically shake her excitement off to make her brain go anything but _Korra Korra Korra_ before she did. Okay: Naga. Sleep. Lunch. She’d have to go down to the store first if she wanted lunch, though.

 

“Asami, come on,” Korra said casually, slamming the passenger door as she fished in her bag for keys.

 

Call her supervisor, since she’d forgotten to last night. Mail a thousand things to a thousand different people, arrange a review meeting - put the ribbon on her incredible thesis. And maybe she should start looking for another car? (One with better sunscreens.)

 

Asami followed Korra in, tucking her head into her shoulder momentarily. Korra, utterly, predictably, habitually irresistible, gave her an angelic smile. Right.

 

But first.

 

Nothing like a makeout in the comfort of your own home.


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... now it's officially over. thanks for reading, and follow [Make It Up As We Go Along](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9770186/chapters/21957431) for any updates to this verse in the future <3

“Okay, okay, bye!” Korra said, for the actual, final time. The image shifted quite laboriously, then jolted, Meelo’s face re-entering Korra’s phone screen next to Naga. Korra held the phone out when Asami tucked her chin over her shoulder in order to afford the other end a better view. “Say bye to Asami, Naga. I love you. See you soon!” The light in Naga’s eyes that had sparked when she saw her sharpened.

 

Asami blew a couple of kisses to the screen. “ _Very_ soon!” Korra doubted the crappy signal would transmit them very well, but Naga’s enthused wagging told her she had no trouble with the message. Korra ended the call with a kiss of her own, laughing as she put the phone down.

 

Asami smartly nudged it farther onto the bright canvas spread they had seated themselves on, away from where the tassels were riffling in the sand. “Seriously, I feel so bad! Whatever it is, she’s coming next time!” She frowned, shaking her head, though a laugh threatened to surface from under it.

 

“Well, I hope it didn’t put too much of a damper on your vacation,” Korra remarked, her own voice warm and wry - so full of expectation that she practically tilted forward to receive Asami’s quick conciliatory kiss before she knew it was coming. Despite the brevity, it felt as silky and decadent as their whole day. “‘Kay, next one!”

 

Asami picked up her own phone this time, from where she had placed it in the receptacle made by her crossed legs. She yawned and jiggled her foot absently, newly painted vermilion toes shining in the sunlight. Korra touched the tip with her own as Asami read.

 

“So. Would you prefer a job where you had perfect -”

 

Korra groaned loudly, a severely protracted drone that eventually made Asami shove her gently on the knee. “Alright, fine! No work talk,” she promised.

 

“No work talk,” Korra swore back. Work was fine - it was just that work was beckoning so soon after their getaway, practically infringing on it; and work had already preceded it for weeks and weeks. Korra had learnt and shadowed and taken notes and generally awakened a great deal of enthusiasm for the world of opportunity that had opened up in her short time so far (as well as a slow disappointment for the spiraling piles of bureaucracy). But this was her _vacation._ With the girl she would have planned her whole summer around - no one but them, not even Naga.

 

Asami cleared her throat. “Next one -” The hint of an impish smile played on her lips. “If you could take one piece of clothing off me, what would it be?”

 

“That’s the 21 Questions I know.”

 

So it wasn’t the most profound pursuit. But it was the very final day of their vacation, and they weren’t feeling particularly inclined to do anything that wasn’t frivolous. Nothing more taxing than running to the water and digging toes in the sand, more exacting than wielding a nail paint brush, or more dangerous than kissing necks on public beaches (however empty.) The heat and the hindsight of two packed, pleasant weeks made them both languid. Even sleepy. Korra had taken the opportunity to nap on their drive here, but Asami was periodically swaying, teetering forward where she sat and catching herself with an adorable, sheepish smirk.

 

The flight home was tomorrow afternoon. A good few hours from Merida to New York. Merida, they had decided, because Asami said Cancun was too ‘obvious’, and she wanted a comfortable compromise between a city break and a flop under the sun with a cocktail. Korra wanted some place a little quieter anyway: to breathe and be together. Vacationing could be stressful business; but like most things, it was easier with Asami. With Asami’s organisational habits and penchant for discreet airport cuddling.

 

The last two weeks had been heaven. They had walked miles around the city, clutching champolas against the backdrop of bright brick rectangles and colonial squares; and danced in the streetlights at night, the cool breeze tailing the sunset (at last) sweeping away the excesses of the day, and leaving Korra new and awake and wanting of heat again. Some nights they stayed until a heaviness set on, sipping to the music, watching the revelers and the starlight - some, they ventured out only to grab dinner before kicking the shoes back off their aching feet and tumbling into bed.

 

Sometimes dinner waited. Sometimes the whole afternoon did.

 

It was true that a significant portion of the _be together_ part of Korra’s mental itinerary materialised in, or at least culminated to, sex in the airy confines of their hotel room. Korra considered it perfectly to plan.

 

There was still something borderline transcendent in being the object of Asami’s affections. In the fact of loving her back. Asami sat on some museum steps and sketched, and when Korra was done with all the beautiful artefacts she came and sat and just watched _her._

 

Asami’s question now necessitated that she engage in that same pleasurable activity. Korra closed her eyes to feel the faint whisper of a breeze on her eyelids as she considered her options, before she realised she required her vision to do so. She assessed.

 

Asami was wearing a red swimsuit, indeed a one-piece of clothing. She had already discarded the diaphanous robe thing she’d had around her shoulders. Korra had to find a way to win this, even if this wasn’t really the type of game you won. She smiled.

 

“Um, I would take off…” Asami awakened just a little in anticipation as Korra spoke. Korra pulled her forward by the shoulders, so that she could reach for her ponytail. “I would take out your hair tie, so I can play with your hair.”

 

Asami released her breath and rolled her eyes, but she let Korra do just that. Liberated, the locks of her hair, coiling slightly in the salty air, poured across her shoulders. Korra tucked them back. Asami yawned again and gave her a sleepy, warm, strangely knowing blink, like she was trying not to smile at some silent joke.

 

Korra slid her legs out of their folded position, crossed and patted them. “Come here.” And without releasing the gentle grip in her hair, helped guide Asami’s head into her lap. When she did remove her hand it was to pass it back over Asami’s face and circle the stud in her ear with a finger. Asami closed her eyes; Korra’s hands returned to her hair, and gaze to the shoreline. She caught Asami’s yawn belatedly.

 

The past few months had been a congested blur of activity for the both of them, even after graduation. Still, in Korra’s memory the whole period was cocooned in a distinct, distilled warmth, like she had scarcely felt before. A comfortable yet quietly invigorating thrill that suffused her spare moments and lurked pleasantly, and even patiently, beneath the busy ones.

 

Asami leveled up in her firm almost immediately upon graduating, and they drove around Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown for a celebratory sojourn. It was the morning after that impromptu day trip that she had hovered hesitantly over her map, pin in hand. She sucked on the spoon clasped in the other one as she deliberated. She let the pink pin fall back into its container with a little clink and worried her mouth, before smiling reluctantly.

 

“What?” Korra said, squinting at her upside down view from where she lay on her back on the carpet, trapped by Naga’s heavy head slumped against her torso.

 

“I’m thinking if… Well, I gave you the blue pins, right?” She said seriously, but the cool affectation of practical concern belied some shyness, some excitement. “I think we could do a different colour… for places we go together. Really, it just makes it easier.”

 

Korra grinned instantly. “You’re so cute.”

 

It _was_ cute, and it was easier to lay its trivial cuteness on Asami than think about how giddy that minor decision made Korra feel. So it had been: a growing handful of little silver pins on the wall, proud proof of how much they enjoyed not leaving without the other. She watched Asami stick one into the east coast of Massachusetts with a particular quiet glee.

 

Road trip really was her specialty - Asami rented a car on their third day in Mexico. Today they had driven it a few miles to the secluded shore, but its original purpose had been to take them to some Mayan ruins outside of the city. Atop a nearby grassy hill, before a panoramic scene, they had sat to eat their lunch. The view had given Korra chills; Asami, too, judging by the way she had quietly taken her hand. It was still and clear up there in a way that made Korra vibrantly aware of her own mind. She thought about how Tenzin would appreciate this place.

 

Right now, on the beach, she felt a similar feeling - full and serenely empty at once. She breathed easy but very deep. Korra glanced absently from the shoreline to the deep green thatch of palms in the distance; to the stack of glasses on her other side (just to check she had no drink left); to Asami’s legs stretched out beside them, foot curled in contentment, the imprint of clingy sand on a well-tanned calf.

 

Then her gaze relaxed on Asami’s face. It appeared that Asami’s eyes couldn’t decide whether to be closed or open, and shifted intermittently, sluggishly. Korra knew it was only a sign of peace; and if there was any resistance in the action, it was simply that she was trying not to fall asleep. Korra continued her absent strokes, lulling her.

 

After a minute, when her eyes fell close fast after a soft jerk, Korra laughed. “You can sleep, it’s okay.”

 

Asami smiled in her lap.

 

“Sweet dreams,” Korra urged, rushing her on purpose.

 

Asami unglued one eyelid with a little turn, her smile becoming brighter. “See you there.” If such a line was ever suave, it wasn’t when Asami wielded it in the pert, treacly tone that she did. Korra scoffed and closed Asami’s eyes herself.

 

Asami said, before she truly drifted, as if she really was turning in for the day, “Are you sad to be going back?”

 

Good question. Korra stroked her hair more purposefully, combing it to one side so Asami could feel the breeze on her neck. She wanted to kiss the top of her head, but it would have been an awkward bend, and she was ever so comfortable.

 

Easy question, upon some reflection. “Kinda,” Korra said. “But not really.”

 

It was the sign of vacation well experienced, well exhausted. She’d had a summer of wonders. Asami had joked that she’d make Korra pay rent once the anniversary of her moving in came around (free trial over), but the remark had alerted Korra not only to the closeness of that event, or the realisation that Asami was as aware of it as she, but just how funny the very notion was. How different things were now. A year of wonders, a wonder of a year that brought stability and serenity and priceless possibility in forms Korra couldn’t hardly have imagined in the beginning - and now the future enticed her. So Korra would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to be home; back in the corner of the world that belonged uniquely - not to Asami anymore, not to her - but to them. To step into the rest of their life.

 


End file.
